Memoirs of a Princess
by Lucrezia-Farnese
Summary: Part 1: House of Swans Series. A story of the life Finduilas experienced in Minas Tirith during her marriage to Lord Denethor. Her fears, her dreams and those she loved. A woman truly caged. Set in Finduilas' Point of View. BOOK-VERSE/PRE-WOTR
1. The Wedding

_Nobody can determine the outcome of his or her life. Only a few days ago, my dear son, Boromir asked me what I would do if I were able to yield such a power._

"_Mother, if you knew what your future held, would you be here, in this bed, in Minas Tirith?"_

_I must say, such a question baffled me, and I had to promise my son to give him an answer after I had time to think. So, now I reflect back to the very day this part of my life began. The start of a life and journey I did not want._

**...**

**Minas Tirith, 16th of March, 2976 TA**

**12 Years Earlier**

It was my wedding day, and like most women of Middle-earth, I should have been rejoicing in the matter. However, those other women were the lucky ones. They were able to marry for love and devotion. I had not been so fortunate. My father, Adrahil had arranged my marriage to the Steward of Gondor's son, Lord Denethor. Being married into such a noble family should have made me feel happy and secure. But what happiness could my betrothed give me when he was twenty years my senior?

I thought of my father and wondered how he could have so easily married me off to strengthen the ties with Minas Tirith. I was a Princess of Dol Amroth! That was my title - Princess Finduilas of Dol Amroth - not Lady Finduilas of Minas Tirith. No! I vowed I would never answer to such a title. I was a Princess, born and raised.

I sat back in my chair and sighed heavily. I thought of my betrothed, Lord Denethor. I had only met him three times before. On all occasions, he was polite in a courtly fashion. However, I could not see him as a sensual lover behind closed doors. My sister, Ivriniel had told how amazing her wedding night had turned out to be. Personally, I could not see sharing a bed with Lord Denethor as something that I would call 'amazing'. I told my father that. Valar forgive me! I should never have said such words to him. He told me I was duty bound to my people and Gondor. I knew I must give the Steward Line a healthy, strong male heir. I prayed that such a thing would happen sooner rather than later. I would rather produce an heir and let that be the end of it! He only needed one son; he does not even need a daughter, and I refused to go through all that pain and suffering of labour just so he was pleased in the nights.

I shook the thoughts away and focused on the task before me. The handmaiden who had been appointed to look after me, carefully brushed my hair, making it shine in the light. I sighed; I wished my life did not have to be this way. My older sister, Ivriniel was fortunate enough to marry for love. That was probably why she was able to find such pleasure during the nights. Nevertheless, her husband died in service to our father, and she was left broken hearted. I spent a good four months at her side while she mourned him.

There was a knock on my chamber door. "Come in," I said casually.

To my pleasure, my younger brother, Imrahil entered, dressed elegantly for my wedding. "My dear sister, you must be the most beautiful woman in all of Middle-earth."

I blushed, lowering my head. "Brother, you are too kind."

"You are a kind-hearted woman, Finduilas. You deserve kindness in return," he replied. I looked back at him and saw worry in his eyes. Imrahil was against my marriage to Lord Denethor. He fought with Father on numerous occasions to end the betrothal. My brother cared for me greatly and did not want to see me married off to a man who was old enough to be my father.

"Is... have you seen Lord Denethor?" I asked nervously.

Imrahil shifted on the spot. "Yes, he is talking to his father and ours in the throne room."

I nodded, feeling my nerves swell within me. I was so scared to meet Denethor at the altar. The wedding was to take place in the Great Hall of Feasts. It was a building next to the Tower of Ecthelion in the citadel. "Brother, I-I am scared."

Imrahil walked over to me and ushered the maid away. He embraced me from behind, looking into the mirror before me. "When you are married, at any time; day or night, if you feel scared, if you need me; all you need to do is leave. I will sail up the Anduin, just to bring you home."

I placed my hand on his arm. "I would never be able to do such a thing. Once Denethor and I are married, I will be the future Stewardess of Gondor."

"You are still a Princess of Dol Amroth," he replied, standing up straight. "You will always be welcome back home."

Home, I thought. Dol Amroth was my home. I wanted to go back there so badly and smell the ocean breeze. In Minas Tirith, there was no such sensation; the breeze that came was cold and icy. It was even so in the summer season. I was no longer living in a coastal environment.

My gaze drifted over to the window, where Mordor was staring back at me. "Brother."

Imrahil saw my gaze at the window. He walked over and pulled to curtains closed to shield the view. "You need not look in that direction, sister."

"How can I live so close to such evil?"

"You are strong," he replied gently. "You will survive."

I could still see the red light from the eruptions of Mount Doom seeping through the curtains. I shivered, hating the fact that I was bound to live on the border of Mordor.

**...**

Imrahil led me down the aisle towards my future – Lord Denethor. My betrothed was standing next to his father, with mine on the other side of the aisle. All three men were smiling at me. I felt so uneasy, walking down the aisle with hundreds of eyes watching my every move. I had no choice but to smile in return and seem content with my marriage. I noticed Ivriniel was standing behind father, seeming to be in some kind of daze. Like Imrahil, she was also against the marriage. I knew she would not last long without my comfort; she needed me, and I needed her. When I approached Denethor, Imrahil kissed my hand, and then handed it to Denethor. I took a deep breath as he led me to the altar, where Lord Ecthelion was standing before us, ready to conduct the wedding. I stared at Ecthelion's hands as he moved them about whilst speaking. I barely caught on to his words. In fact, the whole ceremony felt as if a dream, and I finally came back to reality when I realised Denethor was leading me down the aisle with a crowd of people following. I saw my hand, which was hooked into his arm, had a ring above my betrothal ring. It had happened; I was finally married.

A gathering was held in the throne room while the Great Hall of Feasts was transformed into a dining hall. I felt out of place. Denethor would not leave my side, and wherever I went, he went. I felt like a child that had to be constantly watched. As we walked around the room, many people gave their congratulations and blessings. As always, I was polite. Finally, my father managed to pull me away from my husband's grip to a corner of the room.

"You need to hold yourself together, my daughter," my father said sternly.

I frowned at him, trying to seem confused. "Whatever do you mean, Father?"

"I know you are trying to be polite and not sincere, but I know your heart is really telling you to run off back to Dol Amroth."

I lowered my head shamefully. As much as I hated my father for making me marry a man I did not love, I still loved him for being my father and a wonderful ruler to the people of Belfalas. "I am sorry father. It is just... I am overwhelmed by everything happening at once."

"I know." He kissed my brow. "Look around you; these people will eventually be your people, and you will rule as Denethor's right hand in all matters. You will be equivalent to a Queen of Gondor."

I sighed. I did not want to think of myself as a queen, or comparable to one. "Father, I cannot think like that. One day the true heir to the throne will come forth, and find a queen of his own."

My father's face darkened. "Daughter, such a thing has not happened in thousands of years. What makes you think it will happen now?"

"Is it so bad to hope?"

"You have a fools hope," my father replied. "No heir of Isildur will ever come forth; not in our lifetime. You will be the First Lady of Gondor, and you will make me proud."

"Why... why did you not make Ivriniel marry Lord Denethor? She is older than me."

"Ivriniel is a widow," he replied. "Why would I offer a widowed daughter, when I have an untouched daughter to offer?"

"Does it make any difference?"

My father raised his eyebrows. "Men prefer to have a wife who has not been bedded by another man. Have you ever wondered why whores and harlots have such a hard time finding a husband?"

"Well... yes, but Ivriniel is no whore!" Dear Valar, how I hated that word!

"Either way, she has been wedded and bedded. Perhaps if she were my only daughter, Lord Ecthelion would have accepted the offer, but you are younger, possibly more fertile, and you are a virgin. This is why you are more compatible than your sister."

I looked across the room at Denethor, who was talking to his father and my brother. "I will never understand the minds of men."

My father laughed. "And men will never understand the minds of women."

I rolled my eyes as my father escorted me back to my husband.

Eventually, we were back in the Great Hall of Feasts, where I was seated between Denethor and Imrahil. I would have preferred a warm conversation with my brother, but my husband insisted on making conversation.

"How are you? I have hardly spoken to you all day," Denethor asked.

I smiled politely at him. "I am well. Everything has been so hectic; I do not blame you for not speaking earlier."

He nodded, seeming to be stuck on my words. "It has not been so bad. Today was rather pleasant."

I opened my mouth, but found it difficult to reply. He was debating me! We had been married for less than a day, and he was already questioning my words. How dare him! "I am sorry if I see life differently to you, my lord."

"Differently; how so?"

I looked at my brother, who was talking to Ivriniel on his other side. I wished one of them could save me from this meaningless conversation. "I grew up by the sea, my lord. I am more suited to a relaxed, simple life," I managed to reply. "You, on the other hand, have lived here in Minas Tirith all your life, and have become accustomed to a livelier, busy schedule."

He smiled at me, which was something I was not expecting. "My lady, now I understand. Forgive me if I misunderstood you before. What you say is true. Believe me when I say that you will become accustomed to a busier schedule." I nodded, and did not bother replying. I just wanted this feast to be over, but of course, Denethor still wished to continue speaking. "I am sorry you will be leaving your family behind in Dol Amroth." He paused, and seemed to be search for his next words. "I want to be a good husband. I know I am older and probably the last man you thought to marry. Nevertheless, I believe you and I can at least become friends. Is that too much to ask?"

I blinked, stunned by his words. Was it so obvious that I did not want to be his wife? "My-my lord, if I have ever given the impression that I wished not to marry you, I am sorry."

He chuckled. "My lady, I know what I see in you is nerves. I understand your stress and confusion. You are in a new city, which is far larger than the city you grew up in, you are married to a man you barely know, and now you have duties far difficult than you are used to."

A small smile formed on my lips. Perhaps, maybe perhaps I could at least become his friend. He seemed to understand me so well for someone who knew so little about me. "I am glad you understand, my lord."

"If you need anything, or want anything, all you have to do is ask me," Denethor replied. His hand moved over mine and slightly squeezed it. I watched our hands together and wondered if the life I had dreaded for so long would be so bad...


	2. A New Life A New Insight

I woke up the next morning and saw sunlight creeping through the window. I turned to my other side and noticed that Denethor was not there. Wearily, I sat up and looked about my new chamber. It was rather large, with marble floors and pillars, and a door leading to the privy. I was glad Denethor had left so early – our wedding night, from my behalf was not that 'amazing', as I never expected it to be. My husband finishing quick was the only satisfaction I received.

I shook the thought from my mind and quickly threw on a robe, and walked over to the table to get some water. Shortly after, my maid arrived, helped me dress, and informed me that my husband and father-in-law were waiting for me in the dining hall. Already, customs had changed. I have never been a morning person, and back home I was permitted to take my morning meals in my chamber.

As I entered the dining hall, Denethor smiled at me, while Ecthelion bowed his head in acknowledgment. I sat down across from Denethor, hoping I would not be expected to make conversation so early in the morning. I looked down the long table and wished we had more company. It felt strange – sitting in a large room with two older men I barely knew.

The silence was starting to become unbearable, since I was used to the waves crashing against the peninsula in Dol Amroth.

I remembered that Denethor had two older sisters. The year previously, his eldest sister had died of a sweating sickness, which plagued through the city during spring. His other sister, Tatiel, I had met at the wedding. She was a lovely woman who was married to Lord Angbor of Lamedon. I was saddened by her departure the previous evening, but she promised to return in the near future.

The rest of the day consisted of me becoming better acquainted with the Lords and Ladies of the Court. To my surprise, Lord Denethor did not spend any time with me. I later discovered that he was helping his father with plans to increase their army. The court of Ecthelion was so dire compared to the royal court of my father. That day, I wore a deep red gown, which made me feel so out of place since the rest of the court wore deep blues, purples and other dark colours. However, the court ended up being a resourceful place for news. During my first month of marriage, I learned more about my husband by listening to others gossip. I was rather surprised to hear that Denethor did not lead the army of Gondor. Years ago, when I became aware of Lord Denethor, I imagined him as a tall, valiant man, leading his men into battle on a great horse. Before my first acquaintance with him, I would daydream of him riding up the peninsula with the banners of the White Tower flowing behind him. I imagined him as a man who could stand up against anything and triumph. My brother was like that. As much as he was a student of law, he was able to wield a sword and become a captain of my father's knights.

I suppose I found myself a fool when I finally met Denethor. I was only seventeen at the time – nine years before my marriage to him. He was nothing near to how I imagined him to be. He met my father, standing behind his own. He had a proud stance, but he wore no armour and carried no sword. During his stay in Dol Amroth, he spent many long hours in our library, and then he would go for long walks. One day, I asked him why he would walk everywhere when he could easily ride. He replied – '_It helps me think, unwind, and solve many problems concerning the enemy.'_

My main resentment to marrying him was not his age, but the fact I was so disappointed with him when I was such a young, naive girl.

**...**

One evening, I found myself standing in the front courtyard of the Citadel, watching Mordor. Still, I was terrified of such evil. Sometimes during the nights, I would wake up, sweating and shaking from a nightmare. My dreams were of me, walking along the Anduin River, wearing the pale blue dress I wore on my coming of age ceremony. I would always be singing the same tune that I had learned from my nurse as a child. Then, out of nowhere, a dark shadow crept across the sky. It swept from the East, over the mountains from Mordor. I watched as the shadow came across the plains to Minas Tirith, where the brilliant light of the city vanished, and all turned to a shadowy grey. Then, to my right, I could see the enemy marching before the City of Kings. I tried to run for help. For some reason, I believed that I could run to Dol Amroth in time, but my nightmare would always end with nine, tall figures cloaked in black walking towards me. I never managed to see their faces, but I was at their mercy. Most times, I would wake Denethor as I sat up suddenly in bed. He would comfort me, and managed to get a physician to make a draught to stop my bad dreams. Lately, he had been caring for me a great deal, but sadly, the draught had not yet worked.

So as I stood out in the courtyard, Denethor came to my side. "My lady."

He would always address me as 'My lady', even when I asked him to just call me Finduilas. He was a man of great respect.

"Denethor," I replied, bowing my head. Lately, every time he came near me, a swelling of nerves would start from the pit of my stomach.

"Will you walk with me?"

I smiled. "I would be happy to."

For a short time, we walked in silence, down to the sixth level of the city. The sixth level was my favourite part of the city. There dwelled the Houses of Healing, and I believed it to have the most beautiful gardens in all of Gondor. As often as I could, I would go there and help with the sick. The Houses of Healing was my sanctuary.

"Is something troubling you?" Denethor's question startled me, for at the time, I was wondering about the young child who had fallen ill the day before.

"No, my lord, what gives you reason to ask?"

He sighed and held my hand. "Nearly every day I see you walking around in silence. You barely speak to anyone, and you always have a look of distress."

I lowered my eyes. "I... I am still getting used to living here. I am sorry if I seem shy."

He smiled. "If that is all it is, then I have nothing to worry about."

Relief flowed through me. The last thing that I wanted was to be interrogated as to why I was unhappy here.

**...**

In May, I was happy to see Denethor's sister, Tatiel, arrive with her young daughter, Voronda. I was joyed to see Tatiel again.

"So tell me about Lamedon!" I exclaimed, once the two of us were sitting in my common room.

Tatiel placed down her cup of tea and sighed. "My home is beautiful, but I am afraid I am of no interest to my husband."

I frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"I am older than he is. Lord Angbor is in his early thirties, while I am forty-eight!"

I was rather shocked by this. Most women were married to men older than they were. "May I ask why you married him?"

Tatiel sat back in her chair and looked at her five-year-old daughter, who was playing with some of my jewellery. "My father arranged it to strengthen the relationship with Lamedon."

"Just as my father arranged my marriage to your brother," I replied. "But you must be happy! You have a beautiful daughter."

"I am afraid she is the only child I will ever have." Tatiel paused and sighed. "I am no longer able to bare children. I am barren."

My heart sank. "My lady, I am so sorry."

"Do not be," she replied gently. "I am happy I was granted a daughter, even though a son would have greatly pleased my husband."

"I am sure he loves Voronda."

"He takes mistresses!" she almost shouted. Voronda looked up and lowered the necklace she was holding.

"Mama," she whispered.

Tatiel's expression softened. "I am sorry my sweet."

Voronda continued to explore my jewellery box, ignoring us. "Tatiel... I... well." I could not find any words of comfort for her. If Denethor took a mistress, I would feel like an utter fool! I would feel like the whole world was laughing at me because I failed to please my husband.

"Do not concern yourself," Tatiel finally said. "My husband and I barely speak to each other now. We no longer share a bed during the nights, and it is no secret that our marriage is an unhappy one."

I nodded.

During her two-week stay, I noticed Denethor and Tatiel had a rather close bond. It reminded me of my relationship with Imrahil. Lately, my brother would send me frequent letters asking of my health and informing me of events which were happening in Belfalas. As much as I enjoyed receiving his letters, I felt waves of sadness flow through me. I missed Dol Amroth so much.

"Denethor," I said one evening. He and I were sitting in our chamber at the table.

"Yes," he replied.

"When will I be able to see my family again?"

Denethor looked at me for a moment with curiosity. "Unless your family comes to Minas Tirith, you will not be able to see them."

I was surprised but his words and almost gasped. "But why?"

"The enemy is advancing, therefore my father and I cannot allow you to travel so far. We are not yet certain which parts of Gondor has enemy legions hiding."

"But the quickest way to Dol Amroth is by sailing down the Anduin River. I am sure there are no enemy legions hiding in the river."

He gave me a warm smile. "My dear, you cannot go. We cannot spare men to escort you there and back."

I lowered my eyes, feeling tears swelling. I knew I would not be able to win my case, so I said no more and went to bed.

**...**

At the end of May, a wizard by the name of Gandalf arrived in the city seeking council with Ecthelion. I was curious by Gandalf since I had never met a wizard before, and I believed that a being so powerful and full of knowledge would naturally have a close friendship with my husband.

Denethor and I stood to the left of Ecthelion, who sat in the Steward's throne. Gandalf approached, wearing grey clothing with a pointy, grey hat. I hardened my gaze to see his face, which was mostly covered by his long grey beard and bushy grey eyebrows. Next to me, I felt Denethor stiffen his posture. Slowly, I moved my gaze to him, and saw his face was full of suspicion.

"Lord Ecthelion," Gandalf said, leaning on his staff. "Lord of Gondor."

"Mithrandir," Ecthelion said, "what brings you to Gondor?"

"I have heard rumours of the enemy advancing in the south. So I have come to see if the rumours are true."

"Not much has changed since your last visit, Mithrandir," Ecthelion replied. "Mordor has not yet attacked a city of Gondor, but my son and I are not going to sit around and wait for such a thing to happen."

"May I ask what your plan is?" Gandalf asked.

"We are increasing our army along the western banks of the Anduin River," Denethor replied, "and sending scouts and guards to our fortress at Cair Andros."

Gandalf nodded. "Have there been reports of Black Riders?"

I felt nerves swelling within me. I wondered if these Black Riders were the tall, black figures in my dreams.

"No," Ecthelion replied. "And I know what you are referring to. No such creature or rider has been seen in Gondor for quite some time."

Gandalf looked relieved at his words, and so was I. But my fear of my nightmare coming true was only growing.

Later that evening, I was looking out my chamber window when Denethor entered, holding a small box. "My lady."

I gave him a curtsy and smiled. "Husband."

"I have a gift for you," he said, walking over and handing the small box over to me.

"Thank you," I replied softly. I carefully opened the box and noticed a silver necklace with a large, round pendant. The pendant had a ship in the centre, painted blue and black. It was beautiful. "Where did you get this?"

He smiled. "I found it at a jeweller in the city. When I saw it, it immediately reminded me of you."

I could not help but smile. "It's beautiful, my lord, and thank you."

While he left for the privy, I admired my new necklace. It reminded me of my home, and of my brother who had a strong liking for sailing. Warmth swelled in my heart – now, I was starting to feel at home.

**...**

August slowly came, and my days consisted of caring for the ill in the Houses of Healing. It was the only way to distract me from the growing threat in the east. I found no comfort in the Citadel – there were always men, dressed fully in armour arriving for council with Ecthelion and Denethor. My husband had asked me to attend these councils, thinking it would give me a better insight as what my life would consist of when I became the Stewardess of Gondor. Truthfully, I did not find talking about war on a day-to-day base appealing. I was curious as to why my husband would talk about war, write up plans and strategies for defending the western bank of Anduin, but never rode out himself. He showed no interest in going into battle, and his father never pressured him into doing so. I supposed at the time I should have felt lucky. A healer in the Houses of Healing called me 'the lucky wife', because my husband was not a soldier eager for battle. It did give me some ease in knowing that if war did come to Gondor, my husband would be safe inside the Citadel, waiting for news.

"Finduilas," Denethor addressed me late one evening.

"Yes?" I asked.

"We have been married for five months."

I gave him an odd look. "I know, dear." Lately, I had become far closer to him. We walked about the sixth and fifth level of Minas Tirith five times week together in the afternoons, and dined alone at night in our chamber.

He hesitated before continuing. "Are you showing any signs of... being with child?"

"N... no my lord." I felt so embarrassed talking about it. Usually, men were not concerned with such matters. Most noble women did conceive at least once in their life, and usually a son was born.

He nodded, accepting the news calmly. "Well, there is still time, I suppose."

I tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I am still very young."

He returned my smiled. "That you are. Come, let us retire."

I woke the next morning, feeling his chest on my back. I was cuddled up to him, with his arm holding me close. I felt so secure in his arms, but I lied still, not wanting to wake him. My husband was a man of lore, and it took me quite a few months before I could appreciate that. My young, naive thoughts clouded my best judgement that I had actually married a good man who cared a great deal for me.

**...**

_Back then, all those years ago, I felt so loved and cared for. Now, many years later I do not feel the same love he once gave me. These days, my husband is not the man he used to be, and it pains me so much to know that I have lost that love._


	3. A Visitor for the Citadel

**New Year 2977**

I laughed as Denethor spun me around on the dance floor. It was my first New Year's celebration in the City of King's and I was enjoying it immensely. The celebration took place in the Great Hall of Feasts. I found it lovely to see my husband smiling and enjoying life. Even Lord Ecthelion was dancing with Tatiel. By the end of the dance, I needed to sit down. I watched Tatiel and her husband, Lord Angbor across the room. I had never seen a married couple act so cold towards another. Their daughter, Voronda was twirling on the spot to the music, but both parents ignored her. I felt sorry for the child, so I walked across the hall to give her some company.

"Lady Voronda," I said, kneeling before her.

Voronda stopped twirling and gave me a curious look. "You are Lady Finduilas, Princess of Dol Amroth."

I smiled warmly. "That I am, young lady. And may I say that you speak graciously for a girl your age."

Voronda beamed at me. "My mother makes sure I am raised as a true Lady of Gondor. I am already betrothed!"

My eyes widened. This little girl, who was no older than five summers, was informing me that she was betrothed. I could not believe it!

"Lady Tatiel, Lord Angbor," I said, standing up.

Both looked at me. "Yes?" Angbor replied.

"Your daughter has just told me that she is betrothed!" I said.

Tatiel gave a deep sigh, closing her eyes. Angbor however gave me a sharp look. "You heard my daughter correctly. She is betrothed to my closest friend, Duron."

"Duron!" I said in disbelief. "Is he not the man I saw at my wedding?"

"He is," Angbor replied. "Why does that concern you?"

"Duron is in his mid forties!" I exclaimed. "By the time Voronda is legally able to marry, Duron will be old enough to be her grandfather!"

"Who I marry my daughter to is none of your concern!" Angbor said sharply.

"Lord Angbor!" I heard Denethor say behind me.

I froze, feeling me cheeks burning. I did not know if I should have felt embarrassed, or angry with Lord Angbor.

"Why are you speaking in such a tone to _my_ wife?" Denethor continued. Angbor stood, facing Denethor. I thought a fight would begin, but fortunately, Angbor bowed and left the hall. I felt Denethor place his arms on my shoulders and draw me away from Tatiel and Voronda. "Finduilas, what happened?"

"Nothing," I replied. "I was just asking Lord Angbor why he has betrothed Voronda to Lord Duron."

Denethor looked over my shoulder at his sister and niece. "I am afraid it is the way it has to be. The betrothal contract has already been signed – they are legally bonded to marry."

I lowered my eyes, feeling dreadfully sorry for Voronda. "But she is just a little girl."

"I know," Denethor replied. "My father and I are not happy with this arrangement, but there is nothing we can do about it."

I nodded, and Denethor escorted me out to the front courtyard of the Citadel. The last part of the celebration was to watch the spectacular light show. Each level of Minas Tirith had four large fires, which were lit from the seventh level, downwards. Then, in the distance, Osgiliath was seen brightening from a line of fires on large wooden planks that floated along the river. I watched the planks float down the Anduin River towards the sea. Back in Dol Amroth, we would always wait for these planks to arrive, before joining them with our own, allowing them to float far out into the distance. I found nothing more amazing than watching fire float on water.

The snow had started to fall heavier, so Denethor led me back into tho the Hall of Feasts. He handed me a goblet of wine and sat with me in silence. My thoughts were still of poor little Voronda. How I wished I could help her – to take her away from the grasps of her father. From then on, I became determined to help her and her mother. I would not strive to become the Stewardess of Gondor, just to see an innocent little girl be married off to a man much, much older than she was.

**February**

News reached Minas Tirith of the death of my beloved grandfather, Prince Angelimir. I cried and cried while Denethor comforted me. My dear grandfather was a wise ruler of Belfalas, and he taught my sister and me so much about the court life of Gondor. His funeral was to take place in Dol Amroth in a week's time, but Lord Ecthelion informed me that I could not attend due to enemy movements. As I left the throne room distressed, I heard Denethor and Ecthelion argue over the matter. My husband was on my side, and wanted me to go to Dol Amroth for the funeral. I knew, however, that as Steward, Ecthelion had the last say.

I locked myself in the privy, and hugged a towel for comfort. Thoughts swirled around my mind of riding to Dol Amroth in the dead of the night, but if Lord Ecthelion was right, I may end up being kidnapped by the enemy. I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. My grandfather would not want me acting this way over his death. He would want me to continue with life and make him proud. I was going to do just that! I left the privy and sat down to write to my father, who was now ruling the Fiefdom of Belfalas.

_Dearest Father,_

_I am saddened by the news of my beloved grandfather's death. I am informed that he died without suffering and well content with his life. Please send my condolences to Imrahil and Ivriniel. Also, make sure that Ivriniel is being looked after carefully. After losing her husband, I am not sure how Ivriniel will cope with the loss of another close to her. _

_I am devastated that I cannot make it to Dol Amroth for the funeral. Lord Ecthelion presents a reasonable case as to why I cannot travel at this time. _

_Please send my love to our family._

_Your faithful daughter and servant,_

_Finduilas  
Minas Tirith_

By the end of my letter, the ink was running down the paper from my tears hitting the parchment – I was a mess. During the whole week, I did not leave the Citadel. I did not go to the Houses of Healing; I did not stand out in the front courtyard. I did nothing. On occasion, I would wonder through the royal library, browsing through the hundreds of books along the shelves. I found no topic of interest, but I enjoyed the serenity the library gave me.

By the end of the month, Denethor came into our chamber early in the afternoon. "Finduilas."

I turned from the window and saw he had Voronda at his side. She gave me a deep curtsy and Denethor placed his hands on her shoulders. "My sister has requested for her daughter to spend several weeks in Minas Tirith due to enemy legions approaching Lamedon."

I opened my mouth slightly. "Enemy legions? When did this happen?"

Denethor moved into the chamber and sat Voronda on his chair. "A few days ago, scouts reported a large band of orcs moving by boat across the Anduin. For reasons unknown, they are heading towards Lamedon."

I nodded, feeling frightened. "Very well. I am glad to see you again, Voronda."

Voronda gave me a small smile. "I am glad to be in your presence, Princess Finduilas."

I smiled, looking back up at Denethor. "I shall leave you two be," he said, parting our chamber.

"Princess Finduilas," Voronda said, drawing my attention back to her.

"Please, call me Finduilas," I said, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

Voronda sighed, frowning. "I am not allowed to call you by your name only."

"Well then, how about you call me auntie Finduilas," I suggested.

Voronda stared at me curiously. "I suppose I could, but I prefer to call you Princess Finduilas."

I sighed, defeated. "Very well, you may call me that."

Voronda smiled. "Princess Finduilas, in what part of the Citadel is my chamber going to be in?"

"Nobody has shown you to your room?" I asked, surprised.

"If somebody had, I would not have asked you that question, Princess Finduilas," she said.

I raised my eyebrows. "Lady Voronda, you should not talk to someone of higher rank in such a tone."

She lowered her eyes, and I saw two tears fall. "I... I am sorry Princess Finduilas, please do not punish me."

My heart sank seeing the poor child weep because of me. "Sweet Voronda, do not cry." I picked her up and embraced her. At first, she was startled by my act of kindness, but gladly accepted when she saw I meant her no harm. "Come, I will show you to your chamber."

Since Voronda was so young, I led her to the nursery. When I opened the door, I saw it had not been used in many years. The curtains were drawn and sheets covered all the furniture. "Is this my chamber, Princess Finduilas?"

I stared at her and smiled. "Once we clean it up it will be."

She nodded and walked over to try to open the curtains. I assisted her, and then we pulled all the white sheets off the furniture and had servants bring in fresh linen and pillows for the small bed. I managed to open the large chest and found it full of toys. Voronda gasped excitedly and ran over to help me sort through them.

"Mama and papa never allow me to play with toys," she said, fixing the dress on one of the dolls. "But my nurse allows me one doll to sleep with at night."

"Why are you not allowed to play with toys?" I asked.

"Because papa said a real lady of the court does not have toys."

I frowned. "I am sorry to say, Voronda, that your father is incorrect. You are just a little girl, and little girls are entitled to play with toys."

Voronda looked at me happily. "Thank you for allowing me to play with these toys, Princess Finduilas." I laughed, hoping she would eventually stop calling me by my full title.

By the end of the day, Voronda and I had played with nearly every toy we could find in the nursery. Her favourite toy was the dollhouse. I managed to find some of the missing doll furniture in a cupboard, which evidently, had more toys inside it. In the evening, I bathed her and helped her into her nightgown, and then tucked her into bed. She asked me to read her a story, which I happily did, but by the end of the second page, she was fast asleep.

She was such a lovely girl and she made me want to have a child of my own. Of course, there had been no symptoms of carrying a child for me. I knew Denethor and Ecthelion were starting to wonder if I was able to carry children. It annoyed me that they expected such an event to happen so soon in the marriage.

I stood up and turned to leave the nursery, when I saw Denethor watching me from the doorway. I placed the book on the table and walked over to him. Denethor closed the door behind me and led me to our chamber. "I did not know you were going to place her in the nursery," he said, opened our chamber door for me.

"Was it wrong to do so?" I asked.

Denethor closed the door behind him and sighed. "No it was not wrong to. She is at an age where she should still be in a nursery, but Lord Angbor made it very clear in his letter that she was to be placed in a chamber."

"Well as long as Voronda is in my care, she will be living in the nursery, as she should be doing in Lamedon. Denethor, I do not understand why they treat her as an adult."

"Lord Angbor is not very maternal," Denethor said, sitting down. "He does not understand such responsibilities."

"What about Tatiel?" I asked. "Surely she wants her daughter in a nursery."

"Tatiel obeys her husband, as a wife should do."

For some reason, I felt that remark directed at me. I sat down. "Is something wrong?"

He gave me a weary smile. "No. I am sorry, but these matters concerning the enemy have exhausted me."

I nodded, and then we both retired.


	4. Sweet Little Voronda

**March 2977**

Voronda and I had formed a lovely relationship. Each day I would spend time with her, introducing her to the people of the court and taking her shopping through the sixth and fifth level of the city. One of the first things I bought her was silk cloth for a dress. She was so excited with the idea, that I allowed her to choose the colour. She chose a light shade of green. I managed to find some matching coloured ribbons for her to wear in her hair. Oh how lovely and long her hair was! Every evening I would brush her hair and braid it into a long plait. In the mornings, her hair was wavy, but Voronda did not like keeping her hair loose, so we tied it up neatly.

I became very attached to Voronda. I felt like a surrogate mother in Tatiel's place. I discovered Voronda had very few friends of her own age back in Lamedon. With that information, I quickly found lords of the court who were willing to allow their daughters to spend time with Voronda. I arranged days where the nursery was full of excited little girls playing with all the toys, and eating little treats made by the cooks of the palace. Occasionally, some of the girls' mothers would come and keep me company. One woman I became good friends with was Lady Andis. She was a woman close in age with me, and her daughter was Laereth.

"Princess Finduilas, Princess Finduilas! Look at this!" Voronda called to me. I was sitting with Andis in the nursery while Voronda and Laereth played together.

"What is it, my sweet?" I asked as Voronda hopped onto my lap.

"This dolly's dress is falling apart," Voronda said, showing me the little blue dress, which had started to come undone at the sleeve.

"Well that is no good," I replied. "How about we go and see the seamstress tomorrow so she can fix it?"

Voronda grinned. "I would like that very much, Princess Finduilas." She hopped off my lap and skipped over to where Laereth was playing.

"She is such a pleasant girl," Andis said, watching the two little girls play. "It is a shame that she has such a dismal future ahead."

I sighed, thinking of Voronda's betrothal. "Do you think there is any way I could stop this betrothal?"

Andis looked at me curiously. "Perhaps when you become the Stewardess of Gondor. However, even then it would be difficult. Very rarely can a betrothal contract be broken."

"There must be some grounds I can find which suggests that Voronda is too young to be betrothed."

"Nay," Andis replied sadly. "Children can be legally betrothed from the moment they are born. I thought you would know of this?"

I nodded. "Yes, I did. But I am hoping that somehow I can stop this betrothal."

"The most common way a betrothal contract can be ended is if the bride or groom dies before the wedding can take place. Of course, you wouldn't do anything that drastic, would you?"

I chuckled. "No, no. I am not that cruel! But I am going to put an end to this contract. I will have to work silently and secretly, but nevertheless, I will do all that I can to accomplish this task."

Andis smiled faintly. "You seem to love Voronda very much to want to do this."

"I do," I replied, gazing at Voronda. "She is the daughter I do not have."

"She is very lucky to have you."

**...**

The next day, I took Voronda down to the fifth level to the same seamstress who was making her new dress. The seamstress was an elderly woman by the name of Laimes. She was kind and handed Voronda a small packet of hard candy to eat while she fixed the doll's dress.

"This is so yummy!" Voronda said, sucking on a piece of candy. "Princess Finduilas, would you like a piece?"

"Most certainly," I replied, accepting a long strand of candy. The candy was very similar to the type sold in Dol Amroth. It was berry flavour with a hint of cream. I leaned closer to Voronda, so Laimes could not hear. "Did you say thank you?"

Voronda looked at me with guilt. "Sorry Princess Finduilas, but I think I am forgetting my manners." She stood up and gave Laimes a deep curtsy. "Thank you for the candy, Mistress Laimes."

Laimes chucked at the young girl's formality. "Little one, there is no need to curtsy me. But I thank you for your appreciation." Voronda sat back down, watching Laimes carefully take the dress off the doll.

I stared around the room, thinking of how wonderfully kept it was. Laimes was a war widow, with two sons enlisted as guards on the first level. So the seamstress lived with only her daughter and grandson, who were currently out shopping. Since it was the beginning of spring, the snow had ceased and the clouds parted allowing the sun's warmth to brighten the city. Laimes had the curtains in her room wide open, which gave a wonderful view of Osgiliath in the distance. The ships sailing into Osgiliath from the west fascinated me. I could see they were baring the flag of Dol Amroth, meaning the trades between both cities were still strong.

"Princess Finduilas," Voronda said, tugging at my sleeve. "Mistress Laimes just said that my dress is finished."

"Oh," I started. "Forgive me, I was daydreaming."

Laimes smiled warmly. "No need to worry. I rather enjoy watching the ships sail along the Anduin River. But not to worry, I shall go and get this young lady's dress."

Voronda stood up excitedly. "Do you think it will fit me?"

I chuckled. "Of course it will fit you! Remember, Mistress Laimes took your measurement."

"Of course," Voronda said in thought. "How silly of me to forget."

Laimes appeared moments later carrying Voronda's new dress. I stood up, manoeuvring Voronda to stand in front of me.

"Here, how does this look?" Laimes asked, holding the green dress up.

Voronda gasped. "It is so pretty!"

"That it is," I said, gazing at the dress. I also saw that Laimes had added pearls along the hem and neckline.

"Can I put it on?" Voronda asked hopefully.

"Of course you can!" Laimes replied.

Voronda dressed into her new gown with excitement. She twirled around and felt the pearls that hung from the hem. "The silk is so soft."

I knelt down next to her, feeling the silk's texture. "It is. It will be a very pretty dress for you to wear on special occasions."

Voronda nodded and turned to Laimes. "Thank you, Mistress Laimes. You make the prettiest dresses."

Laimes chuckled. "Not to worry, my dear. Now I must fix this doll's dress. I shan't be too long."

I helped Voronda undress and carefully fold it up and place it into a box. Voronda was in high spirits after receiving her dress, and she kept skipping around the room, singing songs. I had never seen her so happy before. In fact, I had never heard her sing until that day! I wondered if she had sung in her mother's presence. I felt so bad for Tatiel. I knew she wanted nothing more than to be a good mother, but as Denethor had said – all women must obey their husbands and Tatiel was doing just that. I began to wonder if Denethor would act the same if I only bore him a daughter. However, if it came to the well-being of my child, I would disobey my husband's commands if need be. Children were so precious to me.

**...**

The next day, Denethor suggested to me that he would take Voronda and me down to the royal stable. I was rather surprised by this act, since he and his father were so focused on the enemy. But, I could not refuse him.

Voronda skipped ahead as we walked down the steps of the Citadel. "I am surprised you have found time for your niece and me, since the enemy is being a constant threat to Gondor."

Denethor sighed. "I have been meaning to spend some time with you both, and you are right. Threats from the enemy are keeping me away from the things I would rather do, like spend time with you."

I smiled. His constant busy schedule had made him feel so guilty toward me. But I kept telling him every evening that I did not expect him to be by my side every day from the moment we married. It is common for lords to be kept away from their families at some point.

"Have you had news from Lord Angbor and your sister?" I asked.

"I have," Denethor replied. "I am afraid Voronda is being sent back to Lamedon next week."

Those words made me feel weak at the knees. I had to learn on the wall for support. "Finduilas," Denethor said, supporting me. "What is wrong?"

I could hear the nerves in his voice, but everything around me seemed so distant. I finally came to my senses and stood up straight, hooking my arm into Denethor's. "Do not send her back. Please, I am begging you."

I heard Denethor sigh sadly. "I am sorry, Finduilas, but she is not our child. We cannot command where she is to live."

"What about your father? Surely he has some say?"

"He does, but he will not do anything to affect the relationship with Lamedon. Lord Angbor is already displeased with my father because Tatiel cannot give him a male heir."

"Voronda is a bright child. I do not see why he has to treat her like she has no feelings."

"Finduilas," Denethor said calmly. "Please. You need not focus on such things. Voronda is not your daughter. I know you have become quite attached to her, but you are not her mother. Tatiel is. I am sorry."

I nodded sadly, accepting the news with great pain. I did not want to hurt Tatiel, but I deeply wanted to adopt Voronda so she could be away from her dreaded life in Lamedon.

We reached the royal stable, and Voronda peered into every stall, trying to count how many white horses there were. Denethor led me over to a stall near the end of the stable, showing me a white pony.

"White is Voronda's favourite colour," Denethor said. "This pony is her parting gift from us."

"What is its name?" I asked.

"Glosroch," Denethor replied.

Voronda skipped over to where we were standing and peered into the stall. "I have counted eight white horses."

"Very good," I replied.

"Voronda, this is Glosroch. She is your new pony," Denethor said gently.

Voronda opened her mouth and jumped up and down excitedly. "She is so pretty! Thank you Uncle Denethor!" She embraced her uncle around the legs while Denethor chuckled and smoothed her hair. I opened the stall door, and watched as Denethor helped Voronda feed the pony and teach her how to properly brush a horse. I found it rather wonderful seeing my husband interact with a small child. I started to daydream of Denethor teaching our first child all the basics of horse care.

"Princess Finduilas!" Voronda said cheerfully. "I can take the pony home with me!"

I smiled. "I am glad."

"When will I be leaving?" she asked Denethor.

"Your father is arriving in the Citadel on Tuesday, next week," Denethor replied.

I saw Voronda's expression sadden as she slowly stroked the pony's mane. "Can I go back up to the palace now?"

"Of course you can," Denethor replied, leading her out of the stall.

The walk back to the Citadel felt like it would never end. Voronda walked slowly in front of Denethor and me. She moved as if she was leading a funeral down the street. I really could not bear to see her act so sad. I grabbed Denethor's hand to give me better comfort. As we came around the last bend of the sixth level, we walked past a group of women who were chatting amongst themselves, but loud enough for us to hear.

"That is what I heard," one said, looking alarmed.

"I did not know that the Easterlings were so... clever," another said.

"Well the talk of the first level is that a band of Easterlings were able to enter the city without being noticed as the enemy."

"Valar have mercy on our children if they are able to continue to enter so easily into our city!"

I looked at Denethor, shocked. "Is what they are saying true?"

Denethor nodded. "They were caught in the first level looting one of the armouries."

I was stunned and confused as to why he did not inform me. "When did this happen?"

"Two days ago."

I stopped walking and folded my arms. "Two days ago!" Denethor turned and walked up to me, but I refused to hold his hands. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I did not want you to worry."

I looked around and saw that the group of women had stopped talking and were watching us. I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. "You are treating me like a child! I am your wife and the future Stewardess of Gondor! If the enemy enters this city, I think I have a right to know!"

Denethor lowered his eyes for a moment. "I am sorry, but... I do not want to see you worry."

"I am allowed to worry," I replied, unfolding my arms. "Come, Voronda is way ahead of us."

**...**

That night, Denethor and I did not talk. During dinner, everyone was uneasily silent. Voronda was moping over the table, and Ecthelion was eyeing Denethor and me suspiciously. I was so glad after the table had been cleared and I was able to escort Voronda to the nursery.

"Princess Finduilas," she said as I poured warm water over her in the bath.

"Yes, my sweet," I replied as I started to comb her long, dark hair.

"I do not want to go home."

I sighed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I am sorry Voronda, but I have no say in whether you stay or go."

"Could you come with me?" she asked hopefully.

"I am afraid I cannot. I have duties here that I must do. Besides, your uncle would never allow me to travel to Lamedon."

"But Uncle Denethor is nice," Voronda continued. "He may let you."

I smiled sadly. "I am sorry, but this is the way it has to be."

Voronda started to cry softly. I was glad she was in the bath and I could easily wash her face once the last tear had fallen. I felt all over the place that evening. Voronda's sorrow was saddening me, my dispute with my husband angered me, and the news of the enemy infiltrating Minas Tirith terrified me. After Voronda was sleeping soundly, I managed to find my way to my chamber. Denethor was already there, and was obviously waiting for me. But all I wanted to do was go back to Dol Amroth and embrace my father and brother.

I walked right past Denethor and into the privy. I leaned against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep my emotions under control. I did not want to cry in fear that Denethor would hear me. Very slowly, I started to undress and place a fresh nightgown on. I washed my face and untied my hair, brushing every knot out. I knew I would not be able to escape this dreaded fear I had from living in Minas Tirith. But in order to keep my fear under control, I needed Denethor's support.

I placed my deep blue mantle on and left the privy. Denethor was sitting in our bed. He put his book down and I climbed into bed, into his arms - into a safe haven. We silently forgave each other, too exhausted to move out of each other's comfort. Too exhausted to even speak.

**...**

_I now lay in the exact same bed, but it does not give me the same comfort as it once did. I feel so lonely in this big, cold bed. Just comparing my past to the present makes my cry with grief. I have wanted so badly to have that life with Denethor back. He was a saviour from darkness, my companion during the cold nights. Now, he is nothing more than a stranger is. _


	5. Realisation

**April 2977**

Two weeks after Voronda left for Lamedon, a letter arrived addressed to me. At first, I had hoped it to be from my dear brother, but all excitement faded when I saw the House of Lamedon Seal on the back of the envelope. Hesitantly, I opened the letter and saw it was from Lord Angbor. From the way wrote, I could tell he was not pleased with me. He told me of Voronda's sudden change in attitude, claiming that she was acting far too childish. By the end of the letter, I was so tempted to write back to him in the same fashion, that I took a deep breath and thought about my options. I could not lower myself to his standards and formality. I did not want to start turmoil between Minas Tirith and Lamedon, for I knew Lord Ecthelion would be very displeased with me. In the end, I decided to write back to Lord Angbor, apologising for my actions around his daughter, and for allowing her to stay in the nursery. It sickened me to write in such a sense, but I would not ruin all the hard work my father-in-law had done to maintain peace with Lamedon.

After sending the letter away with an emissary, a maid came into my chamber, informing me that Denethor wished to see me in his study. For the year that I had been married, I had never been in Denethor's study.

When I entered, I saw dozens of white shelves lined with books – some thin and some very thick. His desk was quite large with a small stack of books and a neat pile of parchments. Behind him, a large map of Gondor hung like a tapestry. It was a cosy room. I liked it very much.

I sat down at his desk and waited for him to finish writing what seemed to be a very long letter. "I have some news," he said, looking up at me after he had finished. "The scouts on the Island of Tolfalas have rallied reports back to Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith of a fleet of Corsair ships sailing towards the Bay of Belfalas."

I felt my heart starting to beat fast. The Corsairs had not troubled my family's city in many years. I had no idea how to respond to this news.

"Finduilas," Denethor said quietly. "Your father has asked me to tell you that he and your brother are preparing their navy to meet the Corsairs before they reach the peninsula."

I nodded, feeling fear swell within me. "Who will be taking command of the navy?"

"Your brother, Prince Imrahil."

I lowered my eyes, dreading the fact that my brother was going to war against the Corsairs. I loved him too much to see him get hurt. "How many ships are they taking?"

Denethor flipped through some parchments. "I believe Prince Adrahil is sending out two hundred ships."

"Do they know the size of the enemy's fleet?"

"It was estimated that the Corsairs fleet were of about one hundred to one hundred and fifty vessels."

I did not like the sound of that. I was not even aware that my family had a navy that large! This battle in the open sea was not going to end well. "Have you heard from my brother?"

"Imrahil was far too busy to send me a letter," Denethor replied. "I am sure once the battle is over, I will hear from him."

I took a deep breath, wishing that there was something that I could do to help. My father had always considered me the diplomat of the family. I was always good at solving disputes between people, even though my own dispute with Lord Angbor was not going very well. I suppose personal disputes are a lot harder to sort out.

I felt sorry for my father being pulled into his first battle as Prince of Dol Amroth so soon into his ruling. The Corsairs had always been a constant threat to the Bay of Belfalas, but usually they only dared to attempt to raid the city of Linhir. Fortunately, Linhir had its own port and a reasonable sized fleet of ships.

"Finduilas." Denethor's voice drew me from my thoughts, and I saw that he had a look of concern. "I can understand that you are feeling nervous or frightened from this news, but I assure you that Gondor's forces are stronger than the enemy's."

I nodded. "I know, Denethor. And I know my brother will do well in defending the bay. I just hope he does not get seriously wounded in the process."

"I know," he replied. "But all we can do is wait for the outcome."

**...**

The next few days felt like years had passed. I was on constant alert of hearing news from Dol Amroth, but none came. I hated the waiting game. I was never good at being patient when it came to the wellbeing of my family. I tried to move my thoughts of worry aside and focus on matters that I could be of use to. That morning, I offered Denethor to help him with some of his tasks. He was rather surprised by this kind gesture, but he allowed me to go and visit the widows of recent fallen soldiers in his place.

So, I found myself walking down to the fourth level of Minas Tirith. It was tiresome and my two guards kept asking me if I would rather ride down. But ever since I started walking with Denethor, I found the slow pace of my feet much more appealing.

Before that day, I had never in my life given my condolences to widows of war. My sister always did that. I felt so nervous, wondering about how these poor women would act when they saw me.

When I arrived at the community hall on the fourth level, I kept my breathing steady and my hands clasped together at my waist. I entered the hall, seeing it was dimly lit by the sunlight seeping in from the high windows. I walked along the wide, deep blue runner towards the dozen women standing at the end of the hall. As I got closer, I could see many were holding handkerchiefs, wiping their swollen eyes. I could feel my heart starting to beat faster. I was afraid to talk in case my voice showed my nerves.

"Ladies," I said, bowing my head in respect. "I give you my complete condolences on behalf of my husband, Lord Denethor, his father - Lord Ecthelion, my family of Dol Amroth and the entire nation of Gondor." I took a deep breath before continuing. "Without all your husbands' bravery, this city would not be as grand and fortunate as it is now."

"Thank you... m-my lady," one woman said, wiping her eyes. "I hope that no other woman of Gondor will go through the pain we are all suffering now. But I know that when the next battle is over, a fresh batch of women will be standing in our places, hearing your rehearsed condolences."

Rehearsed condolences? I did not rehearse a thing! "I am sorry if you feel that way, but I am merely trying to offer some sort of comfort."

A woman with long, gray hair shook her head. "I have been married to my dear late husband for over twenty years! He was _my_ comfort and now he is gone because your father-in-law sent him to help defend Lamedon!"

A few women muttered in agreement and I was deeply shocked. "With all due respect, Lamedon is part of Gondor, hence the soldiers of Minas Tirith are bound to defend any part of Gondor's realm."

"Just leave," another woman said. "Please, do us all a favour and leave! You have no idea how lucky you are to have a husband who does nothing at all but sit at his desk all day. Go back to the Citadel and stay there! You are of no comfort to us."

I felt my face burn up with embarrassment. I could feel the eyes of the other occupants of the hall staring in my direction. I quickly bowed my head and left the hall in a hurry. The guards who were waiting for me outside stood up quickly, surprised by my quick appearance. They followed me up to the fifth level, but I could not take it any longer.

"Oh for Eru's sake!" I said, turning around and giving them an annoyed look. "I dismiss you from my service. I would suggest that you go now, back to your families - to your wives and cherish every moment you have with them!"

I stepped back a few times, looking at their stunned faces. I closed my eyes and burst into tears. Everyone in the street started at me, wondering what to do. My two guards did not leave me; instead, they took each of my arms and gently led me down a side alleyway, away from the continuous stares. I sat down on a stone bench, wiping my eyes, but my tears would not stop flowing. One of the guards handed me a mug of cold water. I tried to say thank you, but it sounded more like a splutter of random words.

"My lady, what has happened to cause you to weep?" one of the guards asked. I looked up at him and saw his long dark hair draping out of his helmet.

"Th-those widows," I managed to say. "P-please, I want to be a-alone."

The guards looked at each other and gave a hesitant glance before bowing and leaving me be. I placed the mug down on the floor and let my head fall into my hands. I was not crying over humiliation, no I was used to the hard life of court. I was crying because I had no way to understand how those widows felt. They all had looks of broken hearts, and their eyes showed fear of what their future would hold. I knew I would never be a war widow. Denethor was nowhere near a warrior. I did not know whether to be grateful or ungrateful. Sure, my husband had grown on me during the year of our marriage. I thought I was in love with him, but then at times I felt nothing for him.

My feelings were mixed and I suppose it was my entire fault. I could tell by the way that Denethor looked at me that he was in love with me. Every night he would hold me in our bed, and during the days, he always made sure that I had everything I needed.

Suddenly, I sat up and looked up at the sky. It was blue, with no clouds in sight. I smiled, taking in the fresh air. I had just realised how lucky I truly was. It did not matter if my husband was a warrior or a scholar. What mattered was that he cared for me and looked after me. Not many women in Gondor had the same luck as I did. Most noble women hardly ever saw their husbands due to constant business travel. Denethor, however, was always in Minas Tirith. If I wanted to go down to the first level, he would go with me just to make sure no trouble came upon me. I shook my head in disbelief – my husband truly did love me. I was such a fool to think otherwise. That is what my title should have been. 'Lady Finduilas, the Foolish Princess.'

I laughed to myself, wiping the last of my tears away and drinking the last of the water. Coming to this realisation, I felt so... refreshed, so clean, and pure. I almost ran back up to the Citadel. As I made my way towards Denethor's study, every kind action that Denethor had done towards me played in my mind. All the gifts he gave me, the long walks in the evening, the short walks to the Houses of Healings, the comfort he gave me after I had a nightmare – everything!

I opened his study door without knocking and I saw that he was rather startled by my presence. "Finduilas, you are back far quicker than I had first thought."

I smiled at him and walked over to where he sat, kneeled next to him, and kissed him. I honestly do not know what ran through his mind that day. I had never acted so openly towards him, but I do not think he would have complained. He pulled me onto his lap and I kissed him again.

"I love you Denethor," I whispered. I did not let him reply. All I wanted to do was cherish this amazing moment of realisation. It took a year of marriage for me to realise it, but it was worth it in every way.

**...**

That night, I got out of bed and stood by the window, watching Mordor. I do not know why I did it, but I always got this urge to go the chamber window and gaze out across the Anduin River. Night times in Minas Tirith were never silent. There was always the rumble of thunder from Mordor, echoing over the Mountains. I closed my eyes, sighing. I turned back towards my bed where Denethor slept. I smiled before turning back towards Mordor. As much as I had found my love with Denethor in this world, it did not stop that fear of Mordor, which struck me every time I looked east. Perhaps the Numenorean in me allowed me to sense this evil so strongly. Whatever it was that gave me this special sense, I wished nothing more than for it to stop. Dear Valar! I just wanted everything in my life to be perfect.

Thinking of perfect, my hand moved to my lower abdomen. I secretly hoped that I had conceived a child that night. If not, then the nights to follow. After spending so long with sweet little Voronda, my mother instincts were craving for another small child to fuss over.

After Voronda had left, I spent many days slowly packing away the toys in the nursery. I would stare at some of the dolls, remembering all the memories of Voronda playing with them and having little tea parties with her friends. I laughed quietly, thinking of all the fun times I had with Voronda. I missed her so much!

I made my way back to my bed, dreaming up names that I would like to call my children, and the lessons I would be able to attend with them. Oh, I could teach so much to them! Dancing, poetry, literature, music, art and so much more! Having my own child meant that I could run my own household, choose who the tutor could be, though I immediately assumed that Denethor would tutor his children in most scholarly fields.

I sighed as I rested back on my pillow. The months to come could only get better.


	6. The Healer of Osgiliath

**May 2977**

My marriage to Denethor was now so much more enjoyable. A week later, I found myself heading down to the stable with Denethor at my side.

"Why are we going to the stables?" I asked, trying to keep up with his quick pace.

"How else do you propose that we travel to Osgiliath?" Denethor replied.

"We are going to Osgiliath?" I asked, stunned that I was allowed to leave Minas Tirith.

"Yes we are," he replied, taking my hand so I would not fall too far behind. I was excited to be venturing out to Osgiliath. It was really a lovely place. There was always something to see and watch in Osgiliath. Public performances were always available to watch, markets were constantly opening to sell products from all over Middle-earth. In fact, Osgiliath was the largest trading route in Gondor. Because it was on the Anduin River, ships carrying cargo were able to sail in and out of port from the sea, or from far up north. This is also why I was keen to go to Osgiliath – I wanted to be near flowing water again. Even if it was just a river – a river flowed into the sea.

I soon discovered that we had a large escort of guards coming with us. I was bitterly disappointed by their presence. I do not know why we needed such a large group. I hardly believed that Mordor would attack Denethor and me as we crossed the plains between Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. Nevertheless, I hid my disappointment.

As we rode along, I listened to the guards speak to one another.

"I highly doubt that Mordor would attack Osgiliath. It is far too risky," one guard said, throwing his arms in the air.

"True, but the enemy has been known to do drastic things in drastic times," another said.

"Still – attacking the city of Osgiliath? They would have to be quite desperate."

"Actually, it would be a good idea." I froze, hearing my own voice. I could not believe I had just spoken those words. I turned towards Denethor who was glaring at me curiously.

"May I ask why you think that... wife?" Denethor asked.

"Well," I started, taking a deep breath. "If Mordor attacks Osgiliath and manages to overrun the city, forcing all Gondorian forces to flee, then it will be Mordor who controls the main crossing between the east and west banks of the Anduin. By having this crossing, all sorts of enemy forces could cross freely."

"My lady," one guard said, stunned, "I have to say, for a noble woman, your war tactics are very good."

A few of the guards chuckled, trying to hide their amusement, but I merely smiled politely. "I thought it would be obvious that they would want the main crossing over the Anduin."

I saw Denethor shake his head. "The enemy will never be able to claim Osgiliath. We have some of the best soldiers in all of Middle-earth. Our army is a force the enemy does not want to meet on a large scale."

I shared a smile with the guards riding behind me. I knew my husband was right – as always. But who knows what the enemy was capable of. Mount Doom had erupted, enemy legions were now moving along the Anduin River, and were able to cross by boat in southern Ithilien to launch an attack on Lamedon.

**... **

We rode into Osgiliath; all the people walking around the streets, looking at the market stalls and talking with the sailors, overwhelmed me. It was nice to see the city flourish and the Anduin River sparkling dark shades blue. I had such a strong urge to jump into the river. I had missed swimming ever since I left Dol Amroth. Swimming was something I used to do on a day-to-day basis. My favourite swimming spot was just off the large Island of Tolfalas. Of course, it took a few hours to sail there, but it was worth the wait. The Gondorian scouts had set up a small town to cater their needs, and you could anchor your ship in their little port while you took a smaller boat out to the deeper waters to swim.

"Finduilas," Denethor said, leading me over to a small group of men. "This is Lord Toven of Linhir. He is a friend of your brother's."

I stood, frozen on the spot, gazing at the handsome man I had met only a few years earlier. He was about my sister's age, making him only a few years older than me. Everything about him showed his Numenorean ancestry. He reminded me of the sailors back in Dol Amroth. "My lord," I said, bowing my head. I really did not want to look back up at him, afraid that I was blushing. How foolish of me; I had never felt this way during our first acquaintance.

"Lord Toven has news of your brother," Denethor continued.

My thoughts of desire left my mind immediately and were replaced with concern. "How is he?"

"He is very well," Toven replied. Valar! His voice was as pure as before. "His campaign against the Corsairs proved worthy. As they fled, Imrahil was able to seize one of their ships and found it crowded with slaves."

"Slaves? From where?" Denethor asked, concerned.

Toven sighed. "I believe some are from the western lands of Gondor. But some of the people are too traumatized to tell us where their homeland is."

I supposed I looked like a fool, standing there with my mouth slightly opened. "Well it is good that my brother was able to rescue them," I said, after finding my tongue.

Denethor and Toven nodded in approval. "If only I could see the day when the Corsairs of Umbar are defeated once and for all," Toven continued.

"Such a thing may still happen," Denethor said. "But if you will excuse Finduilas and I, for we are late on arrival."

Toven bowed. "I understand. My wife is most eager for me to return to Linhir."

His wife; I had forgotten about her. Lady Esgarbes was her name, and she had recently given him a second babe to place in the cradle. I was a fool to become jealous with the fact that that he had a wife. Frustrated with these feelings I should not have had, I took a deep breath and focused my thoughts on my husband.

"What are we late for?" I asked.

"There is a woman I would like you to meet," he said.

Valar! That made me feel no better. The first thought that came to my mind was that Denethor had taken a mistress. Dear Valar! What would I do? But then I thought that Denethor was not the type of man to do such a thing, but men are known to have foolish thoughts, just as women do.

"Who is she? " I asked, hiding my nerves.

"She is a well-known healer in Osgiliath," Denethor said. "Since the medicine the citadel physician gave you for your nightmares has not worked, I thought this healer may have something."

"Denethor, you do not need to go to so much effort for me," I said.

Denethor held my hand tighter and kissed my hair. "You are my wife. Your wellbeing is my concern."

We arrived at a small shop on the eastern side of the river. The front door was open, and I could smell a rich fragrance of herbs coming from inside. Denethor said he would wait outside, so nervously, I entered, wondering who this mysterious woman was.

"Hello?" I said quietly. The shop's walls were lined with shelves containing all sorts of herbs and bottles filled with objects I had never seen before.

"Yes? Who is it?" a female voice said. I turned to the counter and saw an elderly woman come out of a back room. She did not look Gondorian – she was short, with long fair hair pulled back with a traditional Gondorian hood.

"Oh, hello. My name is Finduilas," I started.

The woman observed me for a moment. "You are not from around here, are you?" she said, taking a seat behind the counter.

"I... yes, that is correct," I said. "I am from Dol Amroth."

"A beautiful city," she said, opening a large book in front of her. "Before I came to Osgiliath, I lived in Linhir. I used to travel to Dol Amroth every second week to find certain herbs which only grew around the city."

"Haldalótë!" I exclaimed. "It is a very hard plant to find."

The woman smiled warmly. "It used to take me two whole days to gather the right amount I needed. But come, sit down."

I sat down on the other side of the counter, feeling more at ease now that I had spoken about Dol Amroth.

"My name is Cílhel," she said. "Yes, my name is Elvish. My mother was from Mirkwood. My father lived in the northern town of Dale. I grew up in Dale, and I learned a lot from the Dwarfs."

I nodded. "And what made you come to Gondor?"

"When my father died, my mother left for the Grey Havens. After that, I decided to travel Middle-earth, helping those in need. I have only lived in Gondor for the last seven years."

I nodded again. "So you have chosen immortal life?"

Cílhel shook her head. "I am living a mortal life. I prefer mortality. It makes me feel closer to those I help. But I see Numenorean in you. Your life spam will be vastly beyond your husband, Lord Denethor."

My eyes widened. "How do you know he is my husband?"

Cílhel laughed. "I saw you arrive last year from Dol Amroth. I was at the markets when I saw your ship arrive. You greeted Lord Denethor and Lord Ecthelion, and then news reached Osgiliath of Lord Denethor's marriage. I put the pieces together, my dear."

I slowly nodded. "What else do you know about me?"

Cílhel gazed at me. "You miss your home – the ocean. You long to be in its presence once more. I also sense a type of emptiness in your eyes. Your life is not yet complete, Finduilas."

"I wish to be a mother," I said.

Cílhel nodded. "Is that why you have come to me? Do you wish for a remedy to help you conceive? I have many available."

"Oh," I said, a little surprised. "Well, my husband sent me here to ask for a remedy to cure nightmares."

"You have nightmares?" she asked curiously. "How frequent are they?"

"Almost every night," I replied.

She nodded, still staring at me. "May I ask what your nightmares are about?"

"I am not entirely sure," I said. "I believe I am watching the fall of Gondor. I am on the Anduin River, watching the shadow of Mordor stretch across the plains towards Minas Tirith. I see the enemy marching – there are thousands of them. Then, these nine tall, black figures start to approach me. I try to run, but I cannot. It is awful!"

Cílhel nodded slowly and stood up. "An interesting, yet terrible dream to be having." She walked over to a shelf, which had many books. She slid a large dusty book out and came back to her seat. "These nine figures. I believe I know what they are."

"You do?" I asked. "I thought they were only my imagination."

Cílhel shook her head sadly. "I am afraid not. She showed me a page in the book. On the left page, there were tall, black figures sketched onto the paper. They looked exactly like the black figures in my dream. I looked to the right page and saw their name.

"Nazgul!" I said. I was stunned and scared out of my wits. Those creatures were not even told in campfire stories.

"Yes, Finduilas. Your dream has the Nazgul in them. It concerns me. I have never come across a person who has dreamt of the Nazgul. I find this disturbing. You seem like a pleasant young woman who has much to aspire too." She closed the book and stood up again. "I may have a remedy for you. I rarely make it, for it is only used for the worst nightmares imaginable. The last person I gave this remedy to was a Dunedain Ranger who had consistent nightmares that made him relive his trauma of witnessing his kinsman being brutally tortured by Goblins."

"Why would I be having such horrible dreams?" I asked.

"It is a mystery that not even I know," Cílhel said sadly. "But here is the remedy. Take it half an hour before you retire each night. When you have run out, come back and see me."

"Thank you, Cílhel." I placed the bottle into the pocket of my cloak.

"Now," Cílhel continued, browsing the shelves. "Would you like another remedy to help you conceive?"

"Would it be possible for me to conceive without a remedy?" I asked.

Cílhel turned to me and smiled. "You have been married a year, and so far it has been fruitless?"

"I... yes," I stammered. The way Cílhel said it, made it sound dire.

"Most women who have not conceived within a year of their marriage come to me for a remedy. It does not mean that you are infertile. You may just need some extra help."

I nodded. "Very well. I suppose some extra help will not hurt."

Cílhel handed me another bottle. "You need to take this every morning. If you miss a day, it will not work. It will take a week or two before it will have a positive effect. So be patient."

I nodded again. "Thank you. How much do I owe you?"

Cílhel waved her hand at me. "You are Lord Denethor's wife! You owe me nothing. Just promise me one thing – that you will continue to help those in the Houses of Healing."

I opened my mouth, surprised. How much did this woman know about me? "I will. I enjoy helping others."

Cílhel smiled at me again. "That is always good to know. Lord Denethor could not have married a better woman."

I thanked her again before leaving her shop. I found Denethor a little further down the street browsing through what seemed to be numerous parchments. "Denethor."

"Finduilas, how did it go?" he asked, grabbing my hand.

"Well. She is a lovely lady," I replied. "How do you know her?"

We started to walk back to the stable. "My sister visited her once when she was with child. Tatiel told me all these positive things about Cílhel."

"Well, if this remedy she gave me works, I think I will continue seeing her."

Denethor smiled. "I am glad. She is a very odd woman, is she not?"

I chuckled. "She is very odd. But I think that is because she has travelled so much in her life."

"That could be it."

**...**

The ride back to Minas Tirith was refreshing. It was midafternoon and a cool evening breeze started to pick up. I loved the evening breeze. It was always so refreshing and seemed to swish away all the troubles I had. I looked west, sighing. I wondered what my family was currently doing in Dol Amroth. My brother, Imrahil was probably standing out on his balcony, watching the waves of the sea.

My eyes suddenly widened. "Denethor, do you know when my brother will make port at Dol Amroth?" I had just remembered he had sailed to war recently.

Denethor glanced at me sideways. "I have not heard from Imrahil, but I have heard from your father. He has told me that Imrahil should be on his way back to Dol Amroth by now."

I sighed with such relief. "That is wonderful news!"

"Yes it is, Finduilas," Denethor replied warmly. "We have shown the enemy that we are stronger than they first thought. If we keep this up, the enemy will start to think twice about attacking one of our cities."

I looked west again, and then behind me. I saw the red light from behind the mountains of Mordor. I hoped Denethor was right. I hoped Gondor would get a reputation among the enemy as being powerful and strong. If the enemy got the slightest hint that we were weak, or weakening, they would, without a second thought, attack. I just hoped my husband was up to the task of defending his lands.


	7. Denethor's Plans

**June 2977**

I was so excited! My family was coming to Minas Tirith! Well, only my brother was, but I had not seen my dear little brother in over a year. I had missed him so much.

I waited in the throne room as my brother walked briskly up to the Steward's throne.

"Lord Ecthelion," Imrahil said, bowing. "It is a pleasure to be in your presence once again."

Ecthelion stood, beaming at my brother. "Prince Imrahil! Without your noble courage, Gondor would be without a coastline. I am forever indebted to you."

Imrahil smiled warmly. "You give me far too much credit, my lord. I am most thankful to have my men by my side during those tiresome days at sea."

Ecthelion nodded. "Your men will be known as heroes for as long as they live. And I hope that they will continue to serve your father as gallantly as they have done so far."

Next to me, I felt Denethor move on the spot. I turned slowly to look up at him. His face was riddled with jealousy. I could not understand why. My brother had just performed a noble cause. Could my husband not show any gratitude?

Imrahil turned towards Denethor and me. "Sister," he said, kissing my hand. "How I have missed you."

I smiled tenderly. "Brother."

"Denethor," Ecthelion said, standing up. "How about you and I take a stroll through to royal gardens? I have matters of the state to discuss with you."

I watched my husband leave reluctantly, not making any eye contact with Imrahil. Denethor's behaviour baffled me!

"Is something wrong with Lord Denethor?" Imrahil asked once we were alone.

"I really have no idea," I replied, shaking my head. "He has been fine all morning."

Imrahil gave a casual shrug before embracing me tightly. "How have you been?"

"Well," I replied. "I have been having these awful nightmares, but a healer in Osgiliath gave me a draught to take. It has worked marvellously."

My brother gave me a concerned look. "I hope it will stop. You never had any nightmares in Dol Amroth."

"I do not why I have them," I replied. "But the draught is working, so that is the main thing."

Imrahil nodded, still looking worried. "I am planning on staying at our house on the sixth level. Do you wish to accompany me there?"

I grinned. "I would love to! I haven't been to our family home in Minas Tirith in so long."

"Really?" Imrahil asked. "I thought the house might have given you some sort of comfort."

I nodded. "The house does make me feel closer to my family, but I did not want to go there constantly in case I started to miss you all a little too much."

"I wish Lord Denethor would allow you to visit on occasion," Imrahil said, sighing.

"I have asked already," I replied. "He keeps telling me that there are not enough men to escort me."

Imrahil gave me a look of shock. "Not enough men? Is he absurd? Gondor has one of the largest armies in Middle-earth. Not to mention that I have written to your husband, informing him that I would come to Minas Tirith and escort you myself."

"What?" I said, spinning around to face him. "Denethor never told me that!"

Imrahil gave me a blank look for a moment, before shaking his head. "I should have known."

"Should have known what?" I asked, continuing to walk towards our family house.

"Finduilas, there is no doubt that Denethor loves you," he started. "It just seems to me that he does not want to... well... share you."

I burst out laughing. "Imrahil, dearest brother. I think you are the one being absurd now. Why would Denethor not want to share me?"

"Look at you, Finduilas," Imrahil said. We were both standing at the front gate of our family house. "You are so beautiful and such a kind-hearted woman. I suppose he is worried your interest for him will diminish."

"Why would my interest for him diminish?" I asked as Imrahil opened the gate for me.

"Well he is far older than you. Perhaps he thinks you will take an interest in a man of your age."

I shook my head. "I am a loyal wife who is bound to obey and serve."

"I know you are," Imrahil replied. "But that doesn't mean Denethor won't worry about losing you."

"Is there a way that I can show him that that won't happen?"

Imrahil sat down in one of the chairs in the front courtyard. "Perhaps. How... affectionate are you towards him?"

I felt my cheeks starting to burn - it was a topic I did not want to talk about to my brother. "I am affectionate towards him."

Imrahil gave me a small smile. "May I ask how often you bed him?"

"Brother!" I exclaimed. "Does that really matter?"

Imrahil grinned. "For a man it does. Men want to _feel_ loved. It cannot just be verbal affection, Finduilas."

"And how would you know all of this?" I asked stoutly. "You are not even married!"

My brother chuckled. "That is true. But I do have married friends. Believe it or not, Finduilas, men like to boast about their intimate relationships with their wives."

"You have not done anything... dishonourable? Have you?"

Imrahil sighed and stood up. "No sister. I am a man of honour towards women. Just as our father is."

I smiled. "Good. I am glad to know that. I would hate for you to father an illegitimate child."

"Now, now, Finduilas. You know how much I love children."

"Marry first."

"Very well," he replied. "You have my word."

**...**

I spent most of the day at my family home with Imrahil. It was lovely to spend some quality time with my brother, as we had much to talk of.

"So, how is Ivriniel?" I asked, thinking of my dear sister.

Imrahil shrugged. "She is not the same woman that she was before her husband died. She still dresses in black."

"Still!" I could not believe it. My late brother-in-law had died almost two years ago. "Has father said anything to her?"

"No," Imrahil replied, shaking his head. "He lets her dress as she wishes. Though, he has been making plans for her to remarry at some point in the near future."

"I have a feeling that will not work out well," I said. "Why would father make her remarry?"

"I think he is hoping that she will stop grieving if she is given a new husband."

I shook my head in disbelief. "That is far too harsh for Ivriniel. I do not think she will ever stop mourning for her late husband."

"Maybe you should write to father then," Imrahil suggested. "He might listen to you. After all, you are his favourite daughter."

"Now why do you say that?"

Imrahil grinned. "You are married to the next Steward of Gondor. You are the first Princess of Dol Amroth to make such an important marriage. Father feels proud of you. He always boasts at court about your marriage and how wonderful it will be when an heir is born."

I tightened my grip on the chair's arm. "I am having trouble conceiving."

"What?" Imrahil said, scrunching his face up with disbelief. "I do not see how that is possible. Our family has a high reputation of being fertile."

"Yet I have been married for over a year and I still have no symptoms of being with-child."

"It takes time, Finduilas. Everyone is different. I am sure it will happen this year."

"You are sure?"

"Positive," he replied, sitting back in his chair.

"I hope I have a son," I said, smiling faintly. "I would love to have a son first, and then a daughter. I can see Denethor doting on his daughter, spoiling her in front of the entire court."

Imrahil smiled. "I do see Denethor being a proud father to a daughter. But he will need to have at least one male heir."

"I know," I replied. "That is why I want a son first. Though, whatever comes first is for nature to decide."

My brother nodded in agreement. "You will make a wonderful mother, sister."

**...**

That night I sat in my chamber as Denethor paced the room.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"I am just concerned," he replied, "about the growing threat from Mordor."

Valar! I hated hearing the word Mordor. Saying it always seemed to darken the room. "Dearest," I said, standing up. "Please, can your worries be left outside this chamber?"

Denethor smiled. "I am sorry, Finduilas. I just worry that our marriage will not be as blissful once I am Steward."

I looked at him with confusion. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I have watched my father struggle with Gondor's defences all my life. It pains me to see him so. Therefore, I do not want to be like my father. I want to focus mostly on the enemy and the movement of my troops. I want to build better catapults along the walls of Minas Tirith. I want my soldiers armour to be stronger..."

"I understand all that," I said. "I know your duties. I have mine as well. But my duties are to be a dutiful wife to you and a good mother to the children we will have." I sighed heavily. "I will support you through any decision you decide to make, as long as it is good for the people of Gondor. Having said that, I do not want you to overwork yourself. When we have a family of our own, I want you to be there for our children. They will need their father."

Denethor held both of my hands and kissed them. "I promise you that I will be a worthy father to all the children you give me. They will be my pride and joy. I even have plans for my first son."

I gave my husband a curious look. "Really? Tell me these plans." We both got into bed, and Denethor ran his fingers through my dark hair as I rested on his shoulder.

"I want my first son and heir to be my leader among men. I want him to lead the armies of Gondor to victory."

I nodded. "It would be good to have our son lead the army. At least the men will be under the command of someone we can trust."

"Exactly," Denethor replied. "I want all the sons I have to grow up to be warriors of Gondor."

"What if we have a daughter?" I asked.

"I would like a daughter," he said in thought. "I have always wanted to have a daughter at some point in my life. I would like to guide her through life and teach her all the necessities of being a noble woman of Gondor. I would also like to give her a male education."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because then my daughter will be more intelligent than the other noble women of the court. I would like to have her help me in office, but be there for you at the same time."

"I believe our children will be in great care under your guidance."

"I hope so," he replied. "All we have to do is try to conceive."

"It will happen," I said reassuringly. "We have to wait for nature to take its place and give us what we want. We cannot rush these things. Anything that is rushed never ends well."

"You could not have spoken truer words, my dear wife," Denethor said, kissing my hair. "I love you."

I snuggled into his shoulder. "I love you too. I always will."

**...**

The next morning I went to visit my brother. I walked by a bakery and bought a loaf of freshly baked bread. It smelt so wonderful! Imrahil and I ate the bread with some fresh fruit in the dining hall of the family house. The dining hall offered a wonderful view over the plains, looking west towards the sea. I so badly wanted to return there.

"Sister, I believe I will be returning to Dol Amroth in two days," my brother said.

My heart sank. I did not want him to leave so soon. "I wish you could stay longer."

Imrahil shook his head. "I am sorry, but father needs me in Dol Amroth."

"I know. I understand the duties of men," I replied.

Before Imrahil could reply, a pageboy ran into the dining room.

"Lad, do you know the importance of knocking?" Imrahil asked.

The boy looked exhausted. "I have just come here in great haste from the Citadel. An important letter from Lamedon has arrived, addressed to Princess Finduilas."

I stood up, startled. My thoughts turned too little Voronda. Something must be wrong. "Thank you," I said, taking the letter from the boy and gesturing for him to leave at once.

I sat back down and opened the letter. My hands were shaking, so my brother took the letter from me and opened it on my behalf.

"Dearest Lady Finduilas," Imrahil said, reading the letter aloud. "It is my deepest regret to inform you that Lady Voronda has fallen dangerously ill at her home in Lamedon. My wife, Tatiel has asked for your company during this dire time. If you and your husband, Lord Denethor are able to make the trip within the week, my wife and I will be indebted to you both. Yours faithfully, Lord Angbor."

My eyes had widened. "I must leave at once." I stood up and hurried out of the house. Imrahil followed me up to the Citadel, still holding the letter.

I ignored everyone I walked past and opened Denethor's study door, without asking. "Finduilas," Denethor said, standing up and hurrying to my side. He must have been concerned for me, as I had tears falling down my cheeks.

"I-I just r-received a letter from Lord Angbor, asking that you and I travel to Lamedon," I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand. Imrahil and Denethor helped me sit down in front of the desk.

"Why does Lord Angbor want us to travel to Lamedon?" Denethor asked, kneeling down next to me.

"Voronda has fallen ill," I said. Imrahil handed the letter to Denethor.

My husband stood back up and paced his study as he read the letter. After a short while, he placed the letter on his desk and sighed. "I see that my niece's health concerns you greatly, therefore I will allow this trip to happen."

I sighed with such relief. I was so worried that I would be denied to leave the city again. "Thank you, Denethor."

"Imrahil, would you give your sister and I a moment alone?" Denethor asked my brother.

"Certainly," Imrahil replied. "I shall go and inform Lord Ecthelion of this arrangement."

After my brother left, Denethor pulled me to my feet and embraced me. "Everything will be alright, Finduilas."

For some reason, his words made me cry even more. I was just happy that he let me release my fears of Voronda's health. The poor child.


	8. Lossarnach

**June 2977**

The next day, I found myself sitting in a large carriage as Denethor and I made our way towards Lamedon. We had to travel along the South Road. It went along the Anduin River, into the Fiefdom of Lebennin, then north around Dor-En-Ernil and finally reaching Lamedon. It was going to be a long and tiresome journey, so Denethor insisted that I travelled in a carriage for better comfort. I did not complain about that. I did not enjoy horse riding as much as my sister and brother did.

The carriage I was in was very spacious. It was made out of thick wood that had been smoothed on the inside of the compartment. The seats were made out of dark blue pillows, and I was able to close the shutter of the carriage window if I wanted to rest. I did want to rest - travelling in a carriage for long hours made me so tired. My handmaiden and I were the only people in the carriage, but behind us, horses were pulling five other carriages along. Denethor rode ahead with the soldiers and a few other noble men. When word reached the court that Denethor and I were going on a trip, half the court decided to accompany us. It annoyed me, having all these people with us. I found this journey to be a private one. Little Voronda was not ill for court entertainment.

I opened the shutter and leaned out to look ahead. I saw Denethor riding along with another nobleman. They both seemed to be in deep conversation. Further to my husband's left, I saw Imrahil riding with his men. My brother was only accompanying us until we reached Lebennin. From there, he would continue west towards Dol Amroth. I had plans to ask Denethor to stop by Dol Amroth on the journey home. But I had to time the moment to ask him correctly.

I felt a droplet of water hit my nose. I looked up and felt rain starting to fall. I quickly closed the shutters and wrapped my blue mantle around me.

"It is such a shame for the weather to be so gloomy," Máleth, my handmaiden, said.

"I know," I sighed. "I wish it would not rain like this." I heard the rain starting to fall harder. "All the men are going to get wet!"

"Yes, my lady," she replied, threading her needle into her cross-stitch. "I hope Lord Denethor and Prince Imrahil do not catch a fever."

I nodded, picking up my own cross-stitch and continued it. At the time, I was threading a picture of numerous types of seashells that were found along the shoreline of Cobas Haven.

"Finduilas," I heard my brother say loudly.

I quickly opened the shutter and immediately felt the cold breeze. "What is it?"

"We are approaching Lossarnach," he said. "Lord Forlong has opened his house for us."

"That is good news. How long will it take for us to reach his home?"

"The Lord's House of Lossarnach is located in the centre of Lossarnach."

Imrahil rode up ahead, and I closed the shutter. "We still have a fair way to go."

Máleth looked up at me. "How far?"

"I would say about three hours. If the road was not muddy from the rain, the journey would be quicker."

"It is not our day for luck, my lady."

I sat back in my seat, too tired to continue my cross-stitch. I could feel the journey becoming slow. The carriage wheels started to turn slower because of the thick mud. I felt that this weather was a curse! To make matters worse on my behalf, I felt the carriage stop all together. Sitting up annoyed, I roughly opened the shutter.

"What..." The guard riding next to the shutter silenced me. He had put his hand over my mouth. I was so startled by his act, that I pushed his hand away and was about to protest when I saw Denethor riding over to us.

"Finduilas close the shutter!" he said in a harsh whisper.

"What is going on?" I asked quietly.

"Do as I say!"

Even more annoyed, I slammed the shutter shut and sat back in my seat, arms crossed. Máleth looked at me oddly. "My lady, is everything alright?"

"How can I know if nobody tells me?" I snapped. Máleth lowered her eyes and continued her work. Guilt ran through me. "I am sorry, Máleth. All I want to do is get to Lamedon quickly, but everything seems to be going wrong today."

Máleth nodded. "It is quite alright, my lady. I am sure some luck is bound to come our way."

I felt the carriage starting to move again, but at a very slow pace. Outside I could hear the men chatting to each other. I began to assume everything was all right.

**...**

The carriage picked up a reasonable pace and we reached Lord Forlong's house a few hours later. The rain had only just ceased, but the clouds above made us believe that we were in for a wet night.

Denethor helped me out of the carriage. He was rather wet, as were all the men riding that day. Máleth followed Denethor and I up the steps of a great, stone house, where a large, round man waited for us.

"Lord Denethor," he said, clasping hands with my husband. "It is good to see you after all these years. We have much to talk about."

I saw Denethor smiling. "That we do. But may I introduce you to my lovely wife, Lady Finduilas of Dol Amroth."

"Lady Finduilas, I am honoured. I am Lord Forlong of Lossarnach."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," I said, trying my best to give him a smile.

Forlong turned back to Denethor. "I heard you came across something rather curious on the road."

"Yes we did," Denethor replied. "We found carcasses on the side of the road. They were strewn over several meters."

Forlong stroked his beard. "That is curious indeed. None of my men have reported any orcs in the area, nor has any come forth claiming to have slain some."

"Nay," said Imrahil, walking up the steps. "These orcs were not killed by men."

"Prince Imrahil?" Forlong said. "It has been a while since I have seen you. But tell me, why do you say that?"

"It is a custom in Gondor that any orcs which have been slain must be piled and burned, or buried. Neither of these customs were performed."

Forlong nodded, but it was Denethor who spoke. "Then who do you propose killed those orcs, Prince Imrahil?"

Imrahil gave my husband a cold look. "That I am not certain of. However, it is known for different bands of orcs to argue amongst each other. Perhaps something similar happened."

"Orcs bickering among orcs," Forlong said. "They sound a lot like men these days."

"Indeed," Denethor grumbled.

**...**

Denethor and I were given a chamber that overlooked a large garden. Lossarnach was known greatly for their flowers, especially in the spring. Sadly, spring was over and summer was beginning. But I could still see hundreds of flowers in the garden at full bloom.

"The gardens are beautiful here, are they not?" Denethor asked, walking through the door.

"They are splendid," I replied, continuing to gaze out the window. "I hope the rain stops during the night so I can go for a walk in the morning." I heard Denethor mumble something behind me, but I ignored him. "What time will dinner be served?"

"I am not sure," he said, taking off his riding gear. "When the servants come and tell us I would suppose."

"Is something the matter?"

"I just have not had a good day," he replied. "This dull weather has not started our journey well."

I walked over to him and fell into his arms. "I cannot agree with you more. Today has been rather horrible." I lifted my head and kissed him. "Perhaps tonight we can make our moods better?"

"That sounds like a very good idea," he said, kissing me.

We stayed in each other's arms for several minutes, forgetting about all our worries. It was such a wonderful feeling, being loved by another.

**...**

Dinner in Lord Forlong's house was cosy. The dining hall was a plaza with a large, square table in the centre of the room. Denethor sat next to Forlong and discussed political issues within their lands. I sat across from them, next to Forlong's wife, Lady Thorbes. Imrahil dinned with us, along with Forlong's two sons – Ronir and Garavon, and daughter – Aewen. The court of Minas Tirith had to dine in a mess hall down the road.

"So tell me about Minas Tirith," Thorbes said.

"There is so much to tell that I do not know where to start," I replied to her.

Thorbes nodded. "I can say the same about Lossarnach. But nowadays this part of Gondor is starting to become affected by the enemy. Last month, one of our fields was burnt by orcs raiding the nearby village."

"I am so sorry to hear that," I replied. "Minas Tirith and Osgiliath have not yet been troubled by orcs. But I suppose it is only a matter of time."

Thorbes nodded. "My husband continuously says that this new darkness from Mordor is only going to grow. Forlong has our sons starting their military training early."

I looked over at the two young boys. The eldest, Ronir did not seem to be more than eight or nine summers. "How old are the boys of Lossarnach when they start their training?"

"Usually ten summers. Some knights of Lossarnach train their sons at an earlier age, but boys from distant villages can only start training at the age of ten. Their parents also have to pay their training fee."

I nodded. "It is similar in Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. Though, the age to start training is eight."

"I hear the knight training fees are far more expensive in the capital?" Thorbes asked.

I nodded again. "It depends on what type of knight the child wishes to be. Only noble boys are able to become guards within the Citadel. It is a sacred place."

"That does not surprise me," Thorbes said, sipping her wine. "The White Tree of Gondor is in the Citadel, is it not?"

"Yes it is," I said. "It is a shame that tree will never blossom."

"You do not believe that... that a... king could return?"

I shrugged. "I have always believed that possibility. But I doubt it will happen in our lifetime."

"Sadly, I agree," Thorbes said wretchedly. "Nevertheless, the stewards are doing a reasonable job in a king's place. Your husband seems to be a fine steward in the making."

I glanced over the Denethor, who was laughing with Forlong. "Our husbands get along rather well."

Thorbes grinned. "I remember many years ago when Forlong and I were only betrothed. Denethor would frequently visit Forlong. They both have a lot in common. Forlong has a wonderful library full of elvish parchments. One of his ancestors was given them by an elf from Imladris hundreds of years ago."

"Who was the elf?" I asked, very curious by her words.

"I am not certain," she replied. "Nobody is certain these days. All we know is that the elf was a well-known sculptor among his kin."

"I am surprised those parchments have not ended up in the library in Minas Tirith."

"I am surprised also," Thorbes said. "Apparently the Lords of Lossarnach were legally able to claim them for all these years."

"Lord Forlong's family has been very lucky."

**...**

At the end of dinner, I made my way back to my chamber where I bathed in the privy. It felt so good to sit in a hot bath after a long day of travel. I could still hear the rain outside – it was pouring down now, showing no sign of stopping.

After I bathed, I sat in front of the fire in my chamber, letting the heat dry my hair. Across the room, I watched the rain fall onto the glass window. That glass window bewildered me. Glass windows were not common in Gondor, or Rohan. Glass was very expensive, and not even the windows of my family's palace had glass.

"Finduilas," Denethor said, entering our chamber.

"It is still raining heavily," I said, pointing at the window.

Denethor sighed. "Is it too much to hope that it will stop by tomorrow morning?"

"What happens if it does not?"

"Then our journey will be slower than intended," he said, walking over to me. He lifted me to my feet. "No matter how slow our journey becomes, we will get to Lamedon."

I smiled wearily. "I believe you. I always do."

The next morning, I woke to the sound of rain. I rolled onto my stomach, unhappy with the constant patter of raindrops. Beside me, Denethor pulled me close to him, kissing my hair.

"How did you sleep?" he asked hazily.

"Quite well," I replied. I was rather cold. I was wearing a thin chemise that did little to keep me warm.

"We will have to leave soon," Denethor mumbled.

"You do not sound so eager to leave," I said teasingly. I rolled onto my other side so I was facing him. I snuggled into his chest.

"I believe spending the day with you in the warmth of our bed to be more satisfying than a cold journey through the pouring rain."

I giggled. "Still, we have promised Tatiel to go to Lamedon to support her through Voronda's ill health."

"I know," Denethor sighed. "But a man can wish, can he not?"

I smiled. "You can wish, but I am afraid that wish will not come true today."

Quickly, I got out of bed and placed my robe on. The stone floor was freezing! I had been so used to the carpeted floors of the palace that I forgot to wear something on my feet. Nevertheless, I had to get ready.

An hour later, I found myself waving to Forlong and Thorbes from my carriage. It was still raining, and I was now wet from walking to the carriage. I wanted to run, but Denethor believed I would trip in the mud. My husband had said that in such a way that my brother was still laughing about it as we started to leave Lossarnach.

Smiling, I sat back in my seat and dried myself with a large towel, wondering what other events could happen during the journey to Lamedon.


	9. Mishaps to Pelargir

**June 2977**

Máleth and I sat in our carriage and kept the shutter open, since it was not as cold as the previous day, as the wind had died down.

The rain did not cease until midmorning. I feared it would continue until we reached Lamedon. The further we travelled, the muddier the South Road became. It seemed that the rain had become heavier further west. At times, the carriages would have to stop while workers placed long planks of wood along the road so the carriage's wheels would not become stuck in the mud. I kept my patience smooth while I watched the Anduin River in the distance.

"I do hope we reach Pelargir before the sun sets," Máleth said worriedly. "I would hate to travel by night in this region."

"I am sure we will not be attacked," I said reassuringly. "Our company is too large to be attacked by a band of orcs."

"What about the Corsairs?"

I hesitated. "The Corsairs are known to attack the port of Pelargir. We will not be staying near the port. The Lord of Pelargir has a house in the centre of the city."

Máleth nodded, still looking outside. I did not blame her. The region around Pelargir had always been a dangerous place to travel through. Corsairs were not the only people that made us worry. There were also bandits and other foul creatures roaming the region around Pelargir on both sides of the Anduin River.

I would be lying if I said I was not frightened. Back in Dol Amroth, I had never heard of any good news coming from Pelargir. There was always something terrible happening, and my father refused to allow any of his children to travel there. I was not looking forward to my visit.

**...**

The sun was starting to set and we still had not reached Pelargir. I could sense that the guards riding by my carriage were restless. They kept looking about them and speaking quietly to one another. Carefully, I leaned out of the window and looked ahead. I could not see Denethor anywhere, but I could see Imrahil pointing west as he talked to his men. By the expression on my brother's face, I could tell something was wrong. I leaned back into the carriage, trying to keep calm and patient so I would not worry Máleth.

I felt the carriage come to a halt. The knights riding beside rode ahead. Their actions concerned me. I could not help but feel defenceless now that my guards had left my side. Máleth was still doing her cross-stitch, but I could not focus on anything. I started to clutch the bottom of the seat, feeling very anxious. The guards had not yet returned, and I could hear the men talking loudly. I tried to hear what they were saying, but they were too far away.

My attention was drawn to the other side of the carriage. I could hear soft footsteps running along the road. I started to think that the road had become too muddy and that the workers were being called to lay planks down.

"What is that?" Máleth asked, leaning over to the carriage side to have a better listen.

Confused, I leaned over too. A squeaking noise could be heard from below. It stopped and the carriage wobbled. I held onto the seat.

"Máleth," I hissed. "Go and call for the guards!" Máleth exited the carriage, but she did not move. "Máleth!" I called.

She signalled for me to get to the floor. I obeyed, fearing the worse. The squeaking noise started again, but this time the carriage collapsed to its side. I screamed as I fell backwards onto the carriage's side. I opened my eyes to see the carriage door facing the sky, but the sky disappeared as two dirty looking men appeared, leaning in to grab me. I tried to fight them off, but I was not strong enough. As I was dragged out of the carriage, I heard other women screaming. I managed to get a glimpse of the other carriages – all on their sides with dirty men on top.

"Máleth!" I shouted, scanning the commotion for my handmaiden. I could not see her anywhere. Two very tall men dragged me towards the river. One had his hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming, another had his large arm wrapped around my waist. I started to panic, wondering if anyone was going to ride to my aid. I knew Denethor would not. I had never seen him train with a sword. To this day, I still do not know why he carries it around with him.

The closer I came to the river, the harder it became to walk. It was so muddy that the bottom of my light blue dress was covered with mud. Eventually, my foot became stuck in a muddy hole and I tripped over. One of the men fell on top of me. I gasped as his heavy weight bared down on me. Half my face was in the mud and I found it incredibly hard to breathe. The man managed to get back to his feet, pulling me up onto his shoulder. By then I was gasping for breath. My whole body was in agony.

When I managed to regain my breath, I saw all the carriages had been tipped over. I was also not the only woman being carried away. I saw a few other noble women of the court being dragged through the mud. They were all crying and pleading for mercy. These men were not satisfied with their behaviour. I could feel tears starting to swell in my own eyes. I tried to fight them back, but I could not.

"Quit ye cryin'!" the man who was carrying me said. "The captain of the ship does not tolerate tears. So ye better stop before he sees ya!"

His words made me cry even more. I vaguely saw the knights of Gondor riding towards us, but fear overwhelmed me that a Corsair was carrying me. The stories I heard as a child about the Corsairs of Umbar terrified me. The men treated the women poorly, giving them no rights. They fought with little mercy and raided cities, burning as they went.

"Finduilas!" I lifted my head, hearing my brother call my name.

"Imrahil!" I called back, seeing him riding towards me with Swan Knights.

"Finduilas, Imrahil?" the Corsair said, placing me back on my feet. He gave me a sly smile. "I know who you are – Princess of Dol Amroth." He lifted me back onto his shoulder and started to run towards the ship.

It did little difference, my brother and his knights were on horseback, and reached us before the Corsair got even close to the water's edge. As the knights circled us, the Corsair dropped me to the ground. I tried to stand up, but my head gave me too much pain. I lied down, closing my eyes.

**...**

"Finduilas," a soft voice said. I slowly fluttered my eyes open to see Imrahil sitting by my side.

"Where am I?" I asked, looking around.

"You are in the House of Pelargir," Imrahil replied, stroking my cheek. "You are safe now."

I sat up, allowing my brother to assist me. "How did I get here? What happened? Where is Denethor?"

"Drink this medicine," Imrahil said. "It will soothe any pain you have."

I accepted the small goblet and drank the vile tasting liquid.

"You passed out," Imrahil said, starting to answer my questions. "When the Corsair dropped you, you hit your head on a small rock. It was hidden under the grass."

I nodded, placing the goblet on the bedside table. "I remember feeling pain in my head before blacking out."

"I carried you on my horse to Pelargir..."

"The women!" I said, cutting Imrahil off. "Did you save the other women?"

"Yes," Imrahil replied. "Everyone is accounted for." He paused. "Before we were attacked, Denethor and several guards rode ahead to make sure that Lord Corinir of Pelargir was prepared for our arrival."

"My husband was not present for the attack?"

My brother shook his head. "He has been so worried about you. He has hardly left your side after the physician allowed him to see you."

"Where is he now?" I asked, scanning the room.

"Talking with Lord Corinir. We are trying to figure out how the Corsairs knew where we were."

"It was rather suspicious," I replied. "Perhaps someone told them?"

"Perhaps," he replied. "Anything is possible these days." He stood up. "I shall go and inform Denethor that you are finally awake."

After Imrahil left, I sat back on the soft pillows. Images of the Corsair who carried me continued to stream my mind. The whole event was something that I would never forget. Trying to take my mind of those wicked men, I picked up the mirror off the bedside table and observed my face. All the mud was gone and my hair was silky again. Someone must have bathed me really well to get all that mud and grime out of my hair. I was thankful though, and I planned on finding out who washed me.

I was amazed to see no scratches on my face or neck. However, I failed to believe that I could have survived without a signal injury. I threw the blankets back and searched my legs for any scratches or bruises. Still, nothing. However, when I lifted my chemise up, I saw my stomach was bruised. It was shades of green and purple, covering the left side of my abdomen. I sighed, lowering my chemise and pulling the blankets back. Until that bruise had gone, I refused to allow Denethor to see me unclothed. I felt my cheeks starting to burn, thinking of how embarrassing it would be for him to see my stomach like that.

The chamber door opened and Denethor appeared looking very relieved. "Finduilas," he said, walking over and sitting next to me. He ran his fingers along the side of my face, and then pulled me close for a kiss. "Are you alright? How are you feeling? Do you need me to get the physician again?"

I smiled, shaking my head. "No, I am quite fine. Just exhausted still."

"We will not be leaving until you have fully recovered."

"What about Voronda?" I asked.

"If it puts your mind at ease, I decided to send one of the royal physicians ahead. He will take good care of her."

I embraced Denethor. "Thank you. That means a lot, and I am sure Tatiel will be grateful."

"She will be. But you must forgive me, I have to leave. There is a council happening in the hall."

"Very well," I replied. "I believe I might rest some more."

Denethor gave me one quick kiss on the cheek before leaving me alone. It felt good to be alone. After being through such a large ordeal, all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, hug a pillow, and fall asleep. So I did just that, except I found myself crying instead of sleeping. I cried in fear of what would have happened if my brother did not reach me in time. What would have happened if I ended up on board a Corsair ship? Such a thought gave made me shiver. I knew this would never have happened if I remained in Dol Amroth. As I had said before, my father would never allow me within a day's ride of Pelargir, and Dol Amroth was a strong fort. Back in Dol Amroth, I was safe from evil.

I started to resent being married. It was not Denethor, no. It was the fact that I was out in the open where I could see all these evil and bad tidings happen. I vowed never to travel from Minas Tirith after this trip. I would go to Osgiliath, but no further than that.

**...**

I managed to fall asleep, waking the next morning to see Denethor by my side. I smiled faintly, placing my hand on his shoulder. He stirred, rolling over. I knew it would wake him up, for he was a light sleeper.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting up.

"I am fine," I lied. I could feel my bruised stomach aching as I sat up. I was mentally preparing myself for a few days of pain.

"That is good to know," Denethor said. "Will it be possible for you to start travelling again tomorrow morning?"

I nodded. "Certainly. I am eager to leave again."

"Wonderful, I shall make arrangements to leave after breakfast."

"Denethor."

"Hmm?"

"What would you rather be if you were not the heir to the Steward's throne?" I asked, wondering if I could see a marriage of peace and serenity with Denethor in Dol Amroth. I knew it would not happen, but I liked to dream.

"Whatever are you talking about?" he asked, confused.

"Well, would you give up your title for a more peaceful life?"

"Never," Denethor said. "I am proud of bearing such a title, and I always will be. Unfortunately, Finduilas, the life you speak of will never exist. Evil has spread too far and has prevented it from ever happening."

"But, don't you ever imagine of what life could be without the worries of war and the enemy?"

Denethor sighed. "I did once. But these days, the enemy has clouded that thought. I would rather not speak of it now. I cannot get my hopes up for something that will never be."

"I understand," I mumbled, watching my husband leave the chamber. Sometimes I just wished that he would see the lighter side of things. He always speaks of the future, but he really does not know what the future holds.

Back then, I really hoped to live to see my dream come true. If not a life of peace in Dol Amroth, then perhaps a life of peace and serenity in Minas Tirith.

"Lady Finduilas."

I looked up and saw Máleth at the doorway. "Oh! Máleth! You are alright!"

"That I am, my lady," she replied, smiling. "I managed to hide until it was all over. Though, I was absolutely terrified for your health when I saw Imrahil carrying you unconscious."

"Just a small bump on the head, I assure you."

"Thank the Valar for that!"

I grinned, happy to see my handmaiden was well. "I suppose I should start getting dressed."

"Your trunk is still intact. The workmen have fixed the carriages also."

"Wonderful," I replied, getting out of bed. "I would hate to ride on horseback for the rest of the way."

"Yes, my lady," she said, throwing my blue mantle over my shoulders. "I have a gown ready for you."

I smiled as I started to brush my hair. I pondered on the journey to Linhir, knowing it was many leagues away. Before we left, there was talk of camping overnight between Pelargir and Linhir, but if I had a say in the matter, we would continue through the night, stopping only if we absolutely had to.


	10. A Story and a Plan

**June 2977**

It was a fine and sunny day when we left Pelargir. The warm summer breeze from the coastline swept up the Anduin River and through the port of Pelargir. As I sat in my carriage, looking out of the shutter, I watched the children paddle around the shallows of the River. I smiled, remembering of how wonderful it was when I was a child. I never had a care in the world, and I dearly wished to go back to a time like that.

"Finduilas," Denethor said, opening the carriage door. "I have decided to spend the journey to Linhir by your side... if you permit it."

"Of course I permit it," I said kindly. "It is far more relaxing in here than on horseback. I will be glad to have your company."

Denethor sat next to me, closing the carriage door. "We will be departing in a few moments. I have informed your handmaiden to ride along in another carriage."

"Very well," I replied, feeling the carriage wheels starting to turn. It felt rather pleasant having Denethor by my side. He may not have been a great warrior, as my brother was, but I always felt safe and secure in my husband's presence. I knew to the bottom of my heart that he would never let anything dreadful happen to me.

I rested my head on his shoulder, and he placed his arm around me. We did not speak, but our physical actions showed another how deeply we cared for each other. My realisation of my love for my husband was sudden all those weeks ago. I now admit to being incredibly stubborn towards my personal feelings. At the beginning, I did not want to love Denethor; I did not want to have a happy life with him. I did not see him as the man of my dreams. I used to weep in my chamber in Dol Amroth when I had first become betrothed to Denethor. I never thought he was the man for me.

Valar! How I had been mistaken...

The constant rocking of the carriage as it wheeled along the South Road caused me to feel very fatigue. I tried to keep my eyes open by fluttering them and shifting my body about. However, it did not work and my eyes closed. I did not sleep straight away; I listened to the continuous creaking noise of one of the wheels of the carriage. For some odd reason, I found it very soothing as it kept in rhythm. As relaxing as it first was, it began to remind me of the last time I was in this carriage, when the Corsairs ambushed the company and tried to take me aboard one of their vessels. Images of the hairy, filthy Corsair who carried me through the mud kept whirling in my mind. His dirty face kept smiling at me, waiting for me...

It could not take it any longer. I snapped my eyes open and sat up straight. I looked about the carriage, trying to see if something was wrong. Fear of another ambush was fresh in my mind. I turned towards Denethor, who was looking at me oddly.

"Finduilas, is everything all right?" he asked, stroking my hand.

I tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Yes, I am quite all right. Just a bit restless."

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Mmm." I lay down, resting on his lap. "Would you tell me a story?"

Denethor stroked my hair. "What would you like to hear?"

"Tell me the story of King Tarannon and Queen Beruthiel of Gondor," I said.

"The Twelfth King of Gondor, Lord Tarannon was. A powerful and noble ruler who was loved among the people. He won many victories and when he became King, he expanded Gondor's territory westward and southward to the coasts. He was known as the 'Lord of the Coasts' and built a fine house south of Pelargir where he resided in.

"A few years later, he met a young woman by the name of Beruthiel. She was dark in complexion, with piercing dark eyes and black hair. She arrived in Pelargir one summers evening as a guest from the south where the Harad resided in. King Tarannon immediately recognised her among the crowd as she danced, twirling her black and silver gown on the dance floor. She captivated the king. He saw a woman far different to the other noble ladies of the court.

"The next day, Tarannon wrote up a document to send to Beruthiel's father, informing the Lord of Harad of his request to make Beruthiel Queen of Gondor. Before the letter had reached Beruthiel's father, Tarannon courted Beruthiel, telling her everything she wanted to hear, and promised her a life in Osgiliath. Once the courting was finally over, and their marriage consummated, Tarannon broke his promise to Beruthiel, telling her that they would continue to live by the sea. This angered Beruthiel and the royal couple spent many long hours arguing. Their love for each other ceased months later, and Tarannon vowed never to share a bed with her again. Beruthiel moved to Osgiliath with her cats. As she left the King's house, she publicly announced that Tarannon would never father a legitimate child, and hence degrading the line of Kings.

"And so the marriage of King Tarannon and Queen Beruthiel ended only a couple of years later when he arrived in Osgiliath with a letter informing the Queen that she was to be banished from Gondor. He casted her and her cats adrift on a ship that sailed south towards Umbar and the Corsairs."

"Such a sad story," I finally said. "Yet it is one of my favourites. Do you think they would have been happy if they moved to Osgiliath?"

"No," Denethor replied. "Queen Beruthiel was a mean-spirited woman. She deceived the King and in some way assisted in the downfall of the line of Kings."

"Because she did not give him a male heir?"

"Exactly," Denethor replied. "If a male heir was to be born of Beruthiel, who knows what would have happened."

"Surely she was not completely dishonourable?"

"She was a black Numenorean, Finduilas," Denethor replied. "She was from a race of people who became corrupted by Sauron. There was never any good in her."

I decided not to argue my point. Instead, I sat up and kissed my husband. I felt him wrap his arms around my waist, holding me tightly. Our short intimate moment felt like a lifetime. The only sounds that could be heard were the squeaking of the carriage wheel and the soft pats of the horses' hooves by the carriage.

"Denethor," I whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too, Finduilas," Denethor replied.

I found myself resting back on his shoulder. The warm breeze continued to sweep through the carriage. It felt nice having the wind on my face. Eventually, I fell asleep.

**...**

I woke up feeling more tired than I had originally. Denethor was awake, reading one of his books, but I also noticed that it was dark outside.

"How long have I been asleep for?" I asked, continuing to look at the dark night sky.

"You slept all day," Denethor replied, placing the book on his lap. "I believe you needed it from you last ordeal."

I nodded, straightening my gown. "How close are we to Linhir?"

"We should be there in several more hours," he replied, fixing the brightness of the lamp that hung from the carriage's roof. "Lord Tarondor of Linhir is expecting us sometime before dawn."

"We are to journey through the night?"

"Yes, we are. I would not dare to stop travelling after what happened on the journey to Pelargir. I will not risk your life."

I smiled. "I am sure such an event will not happen again."

"Let us hope so," Denethor said grimly. "I am in no mood for another ambush."

"You were not present at the last ambush, if I recall correctly."

Denethor gave me a sharp look. "What are you implying?

"N-nothing," I stammered. I turned away from him and continued to look out of the shutter. I heard Denethor sigh behind me.

"Forgive me, Finduilas. I am weary of this long journey. I am worried about my father, his health is declining."

I slowly turned back to face him. "I know, but there is nothing we can do. Men are not immortal."

My husband smiled faintly. "Unfortunately, that is true. I can sense my reign as Steward of Gondor approaching, and I wish to prepare myself."

"What is there to prepare?" I asked, confused.

"Once my father has died, his household will be dissolved. I will be instructed to make my own household in his place. You also will have your own household. There is also the concern of the enemy growing stronger. I need to recruit as many young lads as possible to train for the years to come. And there is... you."

"Me?"

Denethor sighed. "Finduilas, I love you. You of all people know that. I care deeply for you, more deeply than any woman I have laid eyes on. Yet, we have been married for well over a year and you have not yet produced me a male heir."

I stiffened. I despised this subject. A few months ago, I had begun to wonder if I was with-child due to my breasts aching for a few weeks, but sadly, my monthly course had came. "Denethor, I have no power over whether I conceive or not. This is not just my fault. It is yours as well. It takes two to create a child."

I watched Denethor blush, abashed by my words. However, I could not tell if I had embarrassed him or insulted him.

"My father is questioning me," Denethor mumbled. "He wants answers, but I cannot give him any."

"I know I must give the Line of Stewards a male heir. But the way you and your father continue to question me, makes _me_ feel under severe pressure. Perhaps that is why no child has been conceived."

Denethor sighed again. "Perhaps. Only the Valar know why we are in such a situation."

I nodded. "We need to resolve this problem."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Denethor asked wearily.

"We never speak of this subject again," I said sternly. "If we let our worries leave our mind, perhaps a child will come. Why don't we enjoy our marriage before we are blessed with a child, for a child will bring much chaos to a household with its constant crying and need for attention. Do not expect to have a decent night sleep once a child is born."

Denethor chuckled. "I admire your ability to see the brighter side of situations. And you are right, the nursery is only down the hall from our chamber. I should be cherishing this time I have with you."

I smiled. "Yes, you should be." I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Do not worry dear husband. Our life will be blessed with chaos, I guarantee you that." We both laughed at the thought of a screaming child keeping us awake all night. "Do I also need to remind you that my family has a reputation for having high fertility?"

"No," Denethor said, shaking his head. "Before we were betrothed, my father kept acknowledging that fact to me."

"Well," I said, kissing him softly. "If I am of high fertility, then it must be your fault that we have not yet conceived a child."

"Findu-" I cut Denethor off by kissing him soundly. I was in no mood for his protests. I just wanted my husband to be happy with his life, and sometimes hearing the truth leads to happiness.

"I already have name chosen for our first son," Denethor said moments later. "Boromir."

I smiled. "The Steward Boromir also had a father named Denethor."

"Yes, but that is only a coincidence."

"Then why are you planning on naming our first son Boromir?" I asked.

"Because, Boromir was a great captain and leader among men, that even the Lord Nazgul feared him. If our son rises to that greatness on the battlefield, then our enemy will not stand a chance against our defences."

"So you see the name 'Boromir' as being blessed in life by the great quality and swordsmanship by the first Steward to be named Boromir?"

"I do," Denethor replied. "And Gondor needs a leader who is blessed on the battlefield."

I nodded. "I understand you desire to have a son who is a great warrior. But what if he ends up being... like you? A man who is mostly interesting in lore?"

Denethor shook his head. "I will be happy for my son to learn lore as I have done. But he will have to be a warrior first. Gondor will need him to be a warrior first. I will make sure he is taught how to wield a sword from a young age, so when he becomes a man, he will be able to lead the armies to victory for many, many years."

I was rather stunned to discover that Denethor had plans for his heir already mapped out. I suppose I should feel proud knowing that my son would be a great warrior, loved by the people. But I also felt concern. I did not want my son's mind to be filled with issues of war from a young age. Every child deserves a fun youth, full of toys and laughter. I just hopped that Denethor saw that too, and would not make a soldier out of a little boy who knows so little of life.

I suppose only time will tell of how this outcome for our future son will be...


	11. Linhir

**July 2977**

We reached Linhir at around five in the morning. I was so relieved to step out of the carriage to stretch and smell the warm ocean breeze. I felt so close to Dol Amroth now. Sadly, my home city was not along the South Road.

The walk to the Lord of Linhir's house was by a pathway that ventured along the Anduin River. I inhaled the smell of salt water and cherished the sound of waves crashing in the distance. Denethor was walking at my side, holding my hand casually. My dear husband had not slept all night and I could see the lack of sleep starting to affect him. In the distance, I saw Lord Tarondor's house. It was situated on the river's edge with a large terrace overlooking the river. I could see the long, blue curtains of the terrace doorway blowing out as if trying to reach the river. The one thing I liked about Lord Tarondor's house was that it was very cool in the summer seasons. Along the coastline, the summer heat would swelter all day, only to continue through the night. Lord Tarondor's house was built to circulate the ocean breeze through the entire house. There were not shutters on the windows, and there was an open courtyard in the centre of the house with a square pool surrounded by a garden.

By the time I walked up the main steps and was greeted by Lord Tarondor and his wife, I wanted to go to bed. I saw that Denethor felt the same way and immediately retired.

"Forgive my husband," I said to Lord Tarondor. "He has not slept all night."

Tarondor nodded. "I understand. I have heard your journey has met some difficult barriers."

I nodded. "Sadly, yes. But do not worry. We are all in good health."

Tarondor kissed the top of my hand. "Then I shall bid you to retire also. Rest as long as need be. My household is expecting your party to have a late morning, so do not rush."

I smiled. "I thank you, my lord."

A servant showed me to my chamber. When I opened the door, I saw that Denethor was already in bed, sleeping. Sighing, I walked over to the dresser, started to untie my hair, and brushed out all the knots. Quietly, I changed into a clean chemise and got into bed.

**...**

I woke feeling very refreshed. I could see the sunlight shining through the skylight and a large window. I rolled over and noticed Denethor had already risen. Sitting up, I observed the chamber, but he was not present. I dressed quickly and headed out of my chamber. As I walked through the open corridor, I watched Tarondor's children playing in one of the gardens. Tarondor had a large family, consisting of six children – four boys and two girls. All the children looked so happy as they ran around trying to catch butterflies and other small creatures.

"Princess!" one of the girls called as she waved to me.

I smiled. It was Tarondor's youngest daughter, Angwen. She was such a pretty, young girl, with long raven hair and sea-grey eyes. "Good morning, Lady Angwen."

Angwen hugged my waist. "I have not seen you in such a long time!"

I chuckled, enlightened by her enthusiasm. "I know, is has been a while. Tell me, how are your swimming lessons progressing?"

Angwen's face lit up. "Father has allowed me to swim all on my own now. He said I have finished all my swimming lessons."

"That is wonderful!" I exclaimed. "You must feel very proud of yourself."

"Oh, I am."

I watched Angwen skip back to the garden to continue playing with her siblings. I stood there for a while, watching them laughing and chasing each other. I eventually made my way into the main hall, only to find Tarondor's wife, Lady Duvaimes.

"Lady Finduilas," Duvaimes said, embracing me. "You look as beautiful as ever. How I envy you!"

I smiled. Duvaimes and I had been friends for many years. "Please, you are bias."

"With good reason," she replied. "Come, have you eaten?"

I shook my head. "No, I have only just risen."

Duvaimes gestured me to sit at the dining table. The servants bought out large platters of fruits, freshly baked bread and thin slices of meat.

"So tell me," I started, sipping my wine, "where are our dear husbands?"

"Tarondor is showing Lord Denethor around the port." Duvaimes paused. "Your father, Prince Adrahil, has decided to raise our taxes to cover the expenses of expanding the navy."

"I am sorry to hear that," I replied. "Surely Dol Amroth's taxes have risen also."

Duvaimes shrugged. "It is not my duty to know that. Tarondor only tells me certain information. He was not pleased with this tax raise. The fishermen are becoming frightened of leaving port due to Corsair ships appearing."

I took a deep breath, remembering my last ordeal with the Corsairs. "I am sure Gondor's waters are safe enough to fisherman."

Duvaimes shook her head. "In the last month, we have lost five fishing vessels due to Corsair ships plundering them, and then sinking the boats."

I sighed. "I suppose seafood is becoming sparse now."

Duvaimes nodded. "Sadly, that is the case. We are starting to rely on our trade with Dol Amroth to supply us with seafood. But now that the taxes have risen, trading has become far more expensive."

"This tax raise is not my father's fault," I said. "It is the enemy's doing. If the Dark Lord and all his minions would keep to themselves, none of this would be happening. In fact, I am rather surprised my father needs to expand the navy. Dol Amroth's navy has always consisted of twenty ships."

"The Corsairs are becoming more daring these days," Duvaimes replied sadly. "It is a shame the people are starting to live in fear."

After a lovely breakfast, I decided to help Duvaimes with running her household. She had a small study at the front of the house. It gave a wonderful view of the Anduin River. I was not surprised to find her desk facing the wide window. I knew I would eventually be in my friend's place when I became the Stewardess of Gondor, so I thought a little practise could not hurt.

"Here," Duvaimes said, sitting down in her chair. "You can help me buy checking if last week's figures are properly added."

I sat down on the other side of the desk and picked up a parchment that had numbers all over the page. I was rather overwhelmed by these figures. Duvaimes and her husband's household were quite expensive to maintain.

"How many tutors do your children need?" I asked, scanning the table that showed the expenses of tutors.

"My sons need four different tutors for their lessons, plus a stable master to teach them the basics of horse care. My daughters only need two. Though, Tarondor is wishing for his daughters to have a male education."

"Why does he wish that?" I asked, confused.

Duvaimes sighed. "Because, he believes women should be trained equal to men. Therefore, he does not see a problem with our daughters having a male education."

I shook my head. I could not believe what I was hearing. Women do not need to be equal as men. "I find your husband's theory wrong. Daughters of nobility are given an education of high standards already. I do not see any reason why women should learn how to wield a sword, or learn to hunt."

"It is not just that," Duvaimes said. "He wants all his children to be equal."

I sighed. "Well, they are his children, not mine. I suppose he can decide what is best for them. But I must say, these tutors you have hired are costing a fair bit. Surely there is a tutor who is happy to be given a lower salary?"

"There are," Duvaimes replied, "but Tarondor only wants the best for his children."

I gave up. I was not going to continue debating this conversation. I did not believe that the best tutors available were known by the amount of money they worked for, but instead, for the amount of knowledge they knew, and the way they taught. A professor who taught for half of what Tarondor was paying for one tutor alone tutored my brother, Imrahil.

I continued to scan the page, adding up all the expenses to make sure Duvaimes figures were added correctly. In the end, I discovered that their household was more expensive than Ecthelion's. I wanted to say something, but I supposed it was so expensive because they had a large family. I began to wonder if I would be the mother to several children. After seeing Duvaimes' household figures, I knew it would be expensive, but hectic at the same time. However, the idea of having a large family made me smile. I loved children and I would be more than happy to raise as many of them as possible. It would also make Denethor happy, knowing that he would have many children – hopefully sons who would carry on the Line of Stewards once he had died.

"Duvaimes," I said.

"Mm?"

"How long did it take to conceive your first child?"

Duvaimes looked up from her papers. "I believe I was with-child around four months after my marriage."

Her response made my heart sink. "It has been over a year and still no child for Denethor and me."

Duvaimes gave me a sympathetic look. "It will happen. Do not have low spirits because another woman can conceive earlier than you can. I have complete faith in you and Denethor."

I tried to smile reassuringly. I really, really hoped she was correct. "Currently, I feel as if I am failing my husband... and Gondor."

"Do not say that," Duvaimes said sternly. "Ignore what the servants whisper to each other, and what the people of the court think."

"I am rather annoyed that most of the court accompanied Denethor and I on this journey."

Duvaimes nodded. "I have always seen the court of Minas Tirith as nosey. They probably only came to see if they can get an insight into your marriage."

I chuckled. "Most likely. Though, my marriage is not the most... romantic."

Duvaimes laughed. "That I believe. Lord Denethor has never been a man of romance. Though, I do believe he adores you. I can see that in his eyes when he looks at you."

"Sometimes I wish he were more romantic. Like how Tarondor is with you."

Duvaimes blushed. "Tarondor and I married for love. We had loved each other for many, many months. You, however, married politically, and do not forget, all men are different, Finduilas. You can try all you like, but you cannot change who they are."

I nodded. She was right. I could not make Denethor more romantic no matter how long and hard I tried. "Do you know he never kisses me in public?"

Duvaimes laughed again. "Oh Finduilas! Consider yourself lucky. Tarondor tends to kiss me a little bit too much in public. The faces of our guests make me want to hide in my chamber all the time."

I laughed also. "At least our husbands care about us."

Duvaimes nodded. "They do. That is the main thing. Without caring, a marriage would not work."


	12. A Sweating Plague

**July 2977**

Two days later, I woke to find that I could hear voices shouting frantically outside. Concerned, I quickly dressed and made my way out to the main hall where I found Denethor, Lord Tarondor and most of the court of Minas Tirith.

"Finduilas," Denethor said, hurrying over to my side. "We are to leave for Minas Tirith at once."

"What!" I shouted. "No! We promised your sister, Tatiel –"

"Enough!" Denethor demanded. "We have just received word that the sweating plague has erupted along the coastline of Gondor. Majority of the cases are in Anfalas, but there are already victims in Dol Amroth and here."

"Then we continue towards Lamedon," I replied desperately. "Lamedon is north from here, away from the coastline."

Denethor shook his head. "Lamedon is far too close to Anfalas. Come, prepare to leave."

Devastated, I turned around and headed back to my chamber to gather my belongings. As I packed, I could not help but wonder how the sweating illness could have spread so rapidly. Yesterday, everything was fine and the people were merry. Now, Lord Tarondor was secluding his family, and I was forced to flee back to Minas Tirith. My mind kept swirling with thoughts and suspicions. Perhaps this was only a dream and I would soon wake up to discover that this illness was only a trick created by my mind. But alas! That was not the case. The sweating illness had indeed arrived. This was the first time it had appeared during the ruling of the Stewards.

"Are you almost packed, my lady?" Máleth asked, walking into the room.

"Nearly," I replied. "I cannot believe we are forced to turn back after all that we have been through!"

My handmaiden looked at me sympathetically. "It is very unfortunate, but it has to be this way. I am sure Lady Tatiel and her daughter, Voronda will be safe from the sweats in Lamedon."

"Valar! I hope so," I murmured. "My husband sent a physician ahead of our company. By now, he would have arrived in Lamedon. If worst comes to Lamedon, Voronda and her mother will be in good hands."

Máleth smiled. "That is very true, but come! Your husband awaits you."

Once again, I found myself sitting inside my carriage. Denethor was not with me. Instead, he was riding ahead of the company, but sadly, my brother was not among them. Imrahil had left for Dol Amroth the previous evening, and now I feared for his life. If the sweating illness was indeed spreading through Dol Amroth, then my entire family was at risk. I did not think that I could live if my family were no more.

The carriage sped quickly along the South Road. I was informed that the orders were to continue travelling until we reached Minas Tirith. I wanted to have the shutter open, but the guards kept telling me that it was better for my health to have it closed.

"You will be able to get some fresh air soon enough, my lady," the guard said. "For now, the shutter must remain shut – they are Lord Denethor's orders."

I gave the guard a stern look before slamming the shutter.

"My lady, whatever is the matter?" Máleth asked. "Surely you are concerned for your wellbeing?"

I shook my head. "I am more concerned for Voronda's health. She is such a precious little jewel. I would hate for anything to happen to her."

"She is in good hands," Máleth said reassuringly. "I am positive her mother and father will keep a close watch on her."

"I hope you are right," I replied. "I am also terrified for my family's health. What happens if my father and brother die of this sickness? Who will rule Dol Amroth? Ivriniel and I have no right to the High Seat in my father's palace."

"Perhaps that law will be overlooked if the unfortunate were to happen."

"No," I said quietly. "No, the laws of Gondor have always stated that a female cannot inherit power. Even if they are the last legitimate heir, it is not allowed."

Máleth sighed. "Then let us pray."

I nodded, clasping my hands together. "I pray to you almighty Ulmo, Lord, and Protector of the Sea. I beg you to show mercy on the citizens along the coastline of your domain. I pray that you cast your strength and sweep the sweating illness away." I hesitated, thinking of my family. "I also beg for you to watch upon my family, the rulers who keep our seas safe. Without my father and brother's guidance, turmoil will be ahead, with chaos breaking out among the people of Dol Amroth. As such, a beauty and sight the city is, it would be gravely unfortunate for civil war to destroy it. Please, please oh mighty Ulmo, save the children of Eru who call your sea their neighbour!"

"Let the guidance of wisdom show the true path," Máleth said, kissing her fingers and then placing them on her forehead. I did the same act before slouching back in my seat. "Your prayer was beautiful, my lady."

I faintly smiled. "Thank you, Máleth."

**...**

The carriage continued to move along, slowly rocking from side to side along the stony road. We were almost at Lossarnach. Sadly, my husband did not find it suitable to rest the night. So we continued. I had not slept in over two days, and I started to feel as if the carriage was my prison cell. Occasionally, I would watch Máleth, who kept shifting in her seat, fiddling with her hands. At first, I thought she was restless, but then she started to clutch her stomach.

"Is something the matter?" I asked.

"I-I cannot breathe," Máleth replied, trying to undo her coat.

I frowned. "Here." I tried to help her unbutton, but she pushed me back.

"Stay away!" she cried. "I-I."

"Máleth," I said slowly.

She shook her head. "Forgive me, my lady; I thought you were someone else."

I nodded. "Who did you think I was?"

Máleth lowered her eyes. "I-I thought you were a Corsair. One of those men who tried to kidnap you and the other ladies of the court."

"Whatever made you compare me to them?"

"I have no idea!" she replied. Tears were streaming down her face as she removed her coat. "I think I need to get some fresh air."

"You cannot leave the carriage," I protested, moving between her and the carriage door.

"My lady, with all respect I have for you, I _need_ to get out of this carriage." Máleth was now breathing heavily. I saw sweat along her hairline.

"Máleth," I said, trying to keep calm. "I think you are unwell."

My handmaiden sat back down, exhausted. "I am so sorry."

"What for?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. "You have done nothing wrong."

"What if I have caught the sweating illness?"

I shook my head. "Impossible. We left Linhir before anyone in Tarondor's household caught it."

"I don't... I need to –"

Máleth pushed past me and opened the carriage door. She fell to the ground instantly as I fell to the floor from the force of the carriage stopping suddenly.

"What is going on?" the guard asked, riding over to where I kneeled at the carriage door. "What has happened to your handmaiden?"

"She is unwell," I replied, stepping out of the carriage. "She claims she has caught the sweating illness, but surely she is mistaken."

The guard jolted meters away from us. His horse moved on the spot, but the guard dared not come closer. "Princess Finduilas, get inside the carriage."

"No," I replied firmly. "My handmaiden needs a healer."

"Lord Denethor!" the guard shouted. "I need your assistance."

"Assistance for what?" I asked. I knelt down next to Máleth to try to help her up, but I soon discovered that she was unconscious. "Máleth," I whispered. "Máleth, oh please... wake up."

"Finduilas," I heard Denethor say. I turned my head and saw my husband next to the guard. "Why are you doing this? Why are you risking your life? Did you not think about the future?"

"How can I think about the future when the present needs my help?" I replied, not leaving Máleth's side. "We are fleeing from an illness that will most likely come to Minas Tirith due to the trading routes. Did you honestly think we would be safe there?"

Denethor glared at me. "Finduilas, you are my wife. I am ordering you to get in the carriage."

"No!" I shouted. "I will not leave Máleth here. She has been my loyal servant and friend since I arrived in Minas Tirith. She has looked after me, and now I am going to look after her."

My words displeased Denethor even more. "How dare you lower yourself to a servant! You are the future Stewardess of Gondor. It is about time you started acting like one!"

Our argument had started to create a crowd, but I did not care. "You are treating me like a child, not like your wife! I am a grown woman; I can do as I please."

Denethor dismounted his horse and walked over to me. He grabbed my arm and yanked me from Máleth's side. His grip caused pain to my arm. "You're hurting me!" I cried, feeling tears swell in my eyes. "Let me go."

"My lord," the guard said. "I would advise you to let her go. That is no way to treat a lady."

"Don't you dare tell me how I can and cannot treat my wife!" Denethor shouted at him.

I managed to pull my arm from his grip. I had tears streaming down my face. "Who are you?" I whispered. Shaking my head, I turned back towards Máleth who was slowly regaining consciousness.

Kneeling down, I helped Máleth stand up. In could tell from her pale and wet face that she had indeed caught the sweat, but I did not care. If I were to be a true and fine Stewardess, I would help the misfortunate.

"My lords!" a voice cried from the distance. Everyone turned to see a group of soldiers riding towards us.

"Who calls?" Denethor asked, mounting his horse.

"I am Thorongil," the man replied. "The newly appointed Captain of Lord Ecthelion."

"What business brings you here?" Denethor asked curtly.

"Your father, Lord Ecthelion, has sent me here to make sure your company arrives safely."

Denethor shook his head. "We would have arrived safely if my wife did not cause such a commotion."

"I was trying to help my handmaiden!" I yelled at Denethor. "What has turned you into a cold-hearted, selfless man?"

Before entering the carriage with Máleth, I saw Thorongil give me a look of empathy. "If the sweating illness is among your company, all of you will have to undergo seclusion before entering Minas Tirith," Thorongil continued.

"Under what orders?" Denethor grumbled.

"Under your father's orders," Thorongil replied. "Lord Ecthelion has set up a camp outside the main entrance of the White City, to cater all travellers who may have caught the sweat."

That was the last of the conversation I heard. I did not want to hear anymore. I was livid with Denethor and concerned for Máleth at the same time. All I wanted to do now was get to this camp where a probable remedy would be awaiting for my handmaiden.


	13. Captain Thorongil

**July 2977**

I found myself in a large camp outside the walls of Minas Tirith. It was vast, with hundreds of white tents set up with physicians scurrying all over the place. As I sat in my small tent, I listened to the voices of pain from nearby. It made my heart sink knowing that majority of the people in this camp was fated to die here.

"My lady," a physician said, walking into the tent.

To my surprise, it was Cílhel, the curious healer from Osgiliath. "Cílhel!" I said, standing up.

Cílhel bowed her head. "I have come with grave news. Your handmaiden, Máleth, has died."

I clenched my stomach, feeling as if a large object had hit me. I sat back down on the small cot, burrowing my face into my hands. "Lady Finduilas," Cílhel said, walking over to my side. "There will be a time to mourn for her, but for now, I must ask that you rest."

I looked at her. "She was such a good woman."

Cílhel nodded. "I can imagine she was. But, my lady, you have to be aware of my concern." Cílhel paused. "Mistress Máleth died of the sweats and as you were in physical contact with Máleth during her illness, there is a strong chance you have contracted the sweats also."

I felt a few tears fall down my face. "Have you informed my husband of this possibility?"

Cílhel nodded. "I have. Lord Denethor is most concerned for your health. But I am afraid I cannot allow anyone to see you." Cílhel stood up, gave me a curtsy, and left the tent.

I lay down on my cot and pulled a blanket over me. I was crying heavily into the pillow as I hugged myself. I did not know why I was crying. Perhaps it was fear of my own life, or the fact that I had lost a dear friend. I clutched my stomach, feeling a piercing pain shooting through my body. I let out a cry of pain and an elderly physician hurried into my tent.

"Is everything all right, my lady?" he asked.

"I-I believe so," I stuttered, still clutching my stomach. "I am in a bit of pain."

"Where?" he asked, kneeling at my side.

"Here," I said, placing my hand over my lower abdomen.

The physician hummed and grumbled as he observed me and poked around my stomach. "Usually the pains of sweats occur higher up, and also in your head. It is very unusual for you to be experiencing pain so low."

"Perhaps it is not the sweats," I said, rubbing where it hurt.

The elderly man frowned, looking at my hand. "My lady, the pain could be caused from early stages of pregnancy."

My eyes widened. "P-pregnancy?"

"Yes, Lady Finduilas," he replied. "For a child to grow within you, the womb must first grow. And it is common for women to experience pain as the womb expands."

"But... but." I was lost for words. I had not thought about being with-child for many, many days. "Are you certain?"

"When was the last time you bled?" he asked.

"My course is due around this week," I replied.

"Then all we can do is wait and see if you cease to bleed this month." The physician stood up and bowed. "Forgive me, but I must tend to other patients."

I nodded. "Of course. You are dismissed."

When I was alone once more, I sat up and placed my hand back over my lower abdomen. I smiled faintly, hoping that I was with-child. For after the public argument I just had with Denethor, I had secretly vowed to not lay with him until I forgave him.

**...**

I managed to get some sleep, but I woke sometime late that night, dripping with sweat. I felt lightheaded, and at first, I did not know where I was. "Hello?" I called out, trying to adjust my sight in the dark. "Is anyone there?" I did not feel very well, and I knew from the amount of sweat I had all over me that I had indeed caught the plague. While I was wiping the sweat off my face with the blanket, I saw something move into the tent through the corner of my eye. I turned my head and saw a tall black figure emerging through the tent flaps.

"Who are you?" I asked, frightened. I could not see his or her face. But the glint of a sword at its waist was enough to make me retreat to the corner of the tent. "Go away!" I shouted. My cries made no difference, its pace quickened towards me. I did not know what to do. I had nowhere to run – it was cornering me. Finally, I screamed.

"Finduilas... Finduilas!"

I opened my eyes, trying to see who was calling my name. "I am here," I managed to say. I saw that candles lighted my tent, and that Cílhel was kneeling over me as I sat in the corner.

"Lady Finduilas," Cílhel said nervously. "Please, come and lay down."

"Where is it?" I asked. "The black figure."

Cílhel shook her head. "It was nothing more than part of your imagination. My lady, you had just experienced a hallucination."

"I am seeing things?" I asked.

Cílhel nodded, handed me a mug of wine. "It is a common symptom of the sweat. All the healers in this camp are kept on their toes trying to keep all the patients sane."

"Am I going to die?" I asked, feeling tears swelling in my eyes.

Cílhel looked at me sadly. "For now, I do not know. It is too early to tell." She moved over to the small table. "I have prepared a remedy for you. It is not known to cure victims of the sweat, but it does seem to have a positive result on some victims."

I accepted the small glass she handed me. "Is there anything else I can take?"

Cílhel sighed, rummaging through her bag. "I have other methods that could cure the sweat, but since resources for these remedies are rare, I dare not tell anyone of them." She sighed again. "It is a shame the sweat is such a mysterious illness. Nobody knows where it comes from – that is why it is so hard to find a cure."

I drank the remedy – it tasted awful. "One of the healers told me earlier that I could be with-child."

Cílhel stared at me for several moments. "If that is the case, then your life is far more important than everyone thinks." She pointed towards my stomach. "If you are indeed carrying the child of Lord Denethor, then we must save your life."

"But what can I do?" I asked. "I am as much a victim as everyone else here."

Cílhel pulled a plant out of her bag. "Eat this."

I took the plant, observing it. "What is it?"

"A plant from the forest of Mirkwood. Since Mirkwood is a dangerous land to venture too, the Elves have a hard time finding this plant, which is why it is so expensive to purchase. I managed to buy a few when I was staying in Mirkwood many, many years ago. The elf who sold them to me said that they were known to heal the sweating illness that spread though the lands in the Second Age."

Cautiously, I started to eat the plant. It had a vile taste. "Has this been washed?"

Cílhel laughed. "My lady, I take great care in my herbs and other products. You can trust me."

I reluctantly put it all in my mouth, finding it very hard to swallow. "I hope it works."

"So do I," she replied. "But come, let me observe you."

"Is that a wise thing to do?" I asked. "I have the sweat!"

Cílhel shook her head. "My main duty in this life is to treat the unwell. Yes, Gondor has lost at least a dozen healers so far, but I have caught the sweat once before and have lived to tell the tale. I have confidence that the Valar are protecting me."

"What if you are not so fortunate as last time?" I asked.

"Then it simply means that my time in this world has come to an end," Cílhel replied, wiping my brow. "Your fever is not as bad as it could be. I have seen far worse temperatures."

"I will take that as a good sign," I replied. "Has my husband caught the sweat?"

Cílhel shook her head. "Nay, he is well. In fact, he has been summoned to the Citadel."

"What?" I asked, stunned. "He did not think to send a messenger to inform me of his departure?"

Cílhel hesitated. "My lady, half the court of Gondor has been allowed admittance into the city. They are the ones who have not caught the sweat. Some of the remaining are suspected to have caught it, though only a few have so far. However, the Lord Thorongil remains here."

"Who is he?" I asked curiously.

"I am not certain," Cílhel replied. "Though, I have met him before up north near Imladris. At the time I suspected him to be a ranger of the Dunedain, but surely Lord Ecthelion would not allow such a man into his service."

I shrugged. "Stranger things have happened. "But I get the impression that Lord Thorongil has been a visitor to Gondor before."

"It would not surprise me," she replied. "The men who are under his command seem to be very comfortable in his presence."

"Is he not afraid of catching the sweat?"

"Not at all," Cílhel said. "In fact, he is helping the unwell. He seems to have a wonderful grasp concerning healing. He has been a wonderful assistant."

"Perhaps he could treat me as well?" I suggested.

Cílhel stood up, nodding. "I will go and find him now."

I paced my tent, waiting for Cílhel to return with Lord Thorongil. I did not know why, but I felt anxious about being in his presence. When he finally entered my tent with Cílhel closely behind him, I dropped into a deep curtsy.

"Please, it is I who should be bowing," Thorongil said, bowing before me. "For I am nothing more than a captain."

I smiled nervously. "Forgive me, I am not feeling myself."

Thorongil nodded. "It is unfortunate that you have caught the sweat. Lord Denethor is most worried for you."

I folded my arms. "If he is so worried, he would not have left the camp."

Thorongil gestured for me to sit on my cot. "Your husband is bound to a duty in this realm. Sadly, his duty has called him away from your side. He loves you."

"You saw him yesterday," I said. "You saw the way he treated me. He does not love me!"

Thorongil sighed. "I am sorry. It is my fault. Your husband does not see me fit to be in service to the Steward. Word of my appearance in Minas Tirith reached Linhir, and your husband was most upset."

"But if Lord Ecthelion chose you to serve as his captain, surely Denethor understands his decision. What reason does my husband have to despise you?"

Thorongil sighed. "It is a heavy burden I carry. A burden that I cannot discuss with you. Please, you need to rest. I can sense that you are in distress about your husband, but I assure you, everything will be all right."

I slowly nodded. "I believe you, Captain Thorongil." I continued to gaze at this mysterious man. There was something about him, something lordly, as if he was a descendant of Numenor. "Captain," I said. "You remind me of someone."

"Who?" he asked, smiling.

"My brother, Imrahil," I replied. "You both share the same proud stance and Lordly appearance."

Thorongil grinned. "I am honoured that you find me similar to the Prince of Dol Amroth. Your brother is a brave man."

"You know him?" I asked.

"I have met your family once before," Thorongil replied. "It was many years ago. But my main duty in Gondor has been in Minas Tirith."

"I am sure the enemy stands no chance against our defences now that you are captain."

Thorongil chuckled. "My lady, you have not seen me in the battlefield. How can you judge me so?"

I smiled. "I can just tell. There is something about you, Captain Thorongil. I just cannot name it yet."

Thorongil bowed his head. "You shall know in good time. But please, rest. All this talking will drain your energy. Mistress Cílhel will stay with you for the remainder of the night. She is a wonderful healer. She will take good care of you."

"Thank you," I replied. "Thank you... both of you."

Cílhel smiled warmly. "I would hate to see your fever become too serious. You are a wonderful woman Finduilas and you shall make a splendid mother."

Thorongil gazed at me. "Is the Princess with-child?"

"Nothing is certain yet," I replied. "But I do hope I am. I have gone far too long without producing a child. Who knows, perhaps this could be my only chance."

Thorongil kissed my brow. "Have high spirits, my lady. I have faith in you."


	14. Finding Comfort

**July 2977**

I woke the next morning feeling quite relieved to see that I was not sweating. I felt my forehead and noticed that my fever had died down. Smiling, I got out of bed and stretched. It felt good knowing that I had survived the awful sweat. I moved my hand down to my lower abdomen, wondering if I was possibly with-child. Until I was certain, I would speak of it to nobody.

After I had dressed and eaten, I was led out of the camp and was met by Thorongil.

"Princess," Thorongil bowed. "I am enlightened to see that your health has improved."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling. "I am also glad to see that you have not fallen ill."

"Illness rarely affects me," Thorongil replied, offering his arm.

I accepted it and we both started to walk into Minas Tirith. "You must be one of the rare few of our kind who does not fall ill."

"It is a shame that sickness is the curse of our kind," Thorongil replied. "Yet, in the end, men are nothing more than mortal."

I nodded. "Your words are true."

Thorongil went over to fetch horses, but I politely refused. "Please, if I am possibly with-child, I would hate to miscarry from riding."

"Of course," Thorongil replied. "You must take all caution. Shall I fetch a carriage?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I am happy to walk."

"But the Citadel is seven levels!" Thorongil replied.

"Then I shall take my time," I replied. "I am in need of fresh air and some exercise. It will not kill me."

"Well," Thorongil started. "Would you like my company for the walk?"

"Only if you are in no hurry."

Thorongil smiled. "I am in no hurry, my lady. I would be glad to walk with you."

It felt so refreshing to be out of the camp and away from the sweat. "So tell me, Thorongil, where is your home?"

"I come from the north," Thorongil replied.

"What part of the north?" I asked.

"I live all over the north," he said. "My home is not one fixed location."

I slowly nodded. "Do you not feel empty? Having no permanent residence?" I asked.

"I was raised in Imladris," Thorongil answered. "You could say that the House of Lord Elrond has been my home."

"That is a mighty honour to be raised by the elves," I remarked.

Thorongil smiled. "It is an honour still. Lord Elrond is a very generous elf."

"I envy you," I said, sighing. "You seem to have led an interesting life so far. My life, however, is anything but interesting."

"Your marriage does not fulfil your heart?" Thorongil asked.

I shrugged. "I do not know anymore. The man I thought I loved seems to have two different personalities. I am rather nervous about seeing him again."

"Lord Denethor is a gentle man," Thorongil said reassuringly. "I am sure his previous anger was out of worry for your health."

"I guess we will soon find out whether your theory is right," I said. "It would be nice to have the man I love back."

"Everything in good manner shall be well," Thorongil said gently.

"Are you married?" I asked.

Thorongil shook his head. "No. Though, I shall tell only you that there is a lady who owns my heart."

"Is this love you have for her a secret?"

Thorongil sighed. "To some it is, but to others, they know. Her father does not wish for us to marry yet, so I must honour her family's wishes."

"Is she from the north also?"

"Yes," Thorongil replied. "Her family has resided in the north for many generations."

"Then I see your heart truly lies in the north," I said. "May I ask why you have come to Gondor?"

"I feel I am duty bound to this realm," Thorongil replied "My ancestors used to live here."

"Oh," I replied. "Are you of noble blood?"

"Some say," Thorongil replied. "Others say that I am as important as a stableman."

"My, my," I remarked with a hint of enthusiasm. "You are a man of great curiosity. There seems to be a great mystery about you."

Thorongil chuckled. "You have read me well, princess."

"How long have you known Denethor?" I asked curiously.

"A few years," Thorongil replied. "The last time I was here, was about four years ago. I helped Ecthelion's troops drive out the enemy from Lossarnach. It was then that Ecthelion made me captain."

"And my husband has disliked you ever since that day?"

"It seems so," Thorongil replied. "I have done nothing to upset him. But his father, Ecthelion does speak highly of me, maybe he is..."

"Jealous?"

Thorongil hesitated. "I would hate to use that word. He has nothing to be jealous of."

"If Lord Ecthelion admires you as you seem to claim. Then Denethor has every right to be jealous of you." I sighed. "Denethor is not a man of steel. He prefers books and lore rather than fighting on a battlefield. Ecthelion has only one son, and perhaps he sees you as a second son - the son who does fight on the battlefield."

"That is a possibility," Thorongil replied. "But I have no desire to compete for Ecthelion's love. The Steward will do as he pleases."

"It is not me that you have to convince," I said. "It is Denethor."

"You are right," Thorongil said. "I would like to reason with Lord Denethor. I only desire to be his friend and comrade."

"All shall be well," I said.

**...**

Thorongil and I entered the Citadel and made our way to Denethor's study. The door was open, but Denethor was not pleased to see my arm in Thorongil's.

"Unhand my wife," Denethor said, walking over to us.

"My apologies," Thorongil said, bowing his head.

"Denethor," I said, folding my arms. "What has gotten into you?"

"Finduilas," Denethor said, trying to act calm. "I am so relieved to see that you are in good health." He kissed my hand, but I felt no warmth in it.

"As am I," I replied. "Lord Thorongil kept watch over me."

Denethor turned his gaze over to Thorongil. "Did he?"

"I made sure the princess was well looked after," Thorongil said.

"Denethor," I said, making his attention turn toward me. "May we speak privately?"

Denethor led me into his study as Thorongil bowed and walked away. Once the door was shut, I let out my emotions. "You are not the man I married!" I said loudly. "Why are you acting so cold?"

Denethor grabbed both my arms, pulling me closer to him. "I am the exact man that you married."

"No," I said, trying to escape his grip. "The man I married wouldn't stop me from helping an innocent woman!"

Denethor released his grip, and stormed to the other side of the room. "Do not speak to me in that tone!"

"I also want to know why Thorongil has the impression that you do not like him," I continued. "Why would you despise a man who is helping your realm? Who is leading your armies?"

"He is not to be trusted!" Denethor shouted. "He is not all that he appears!"

"What proof do you have of these accusations?" I asked.

"I will have proof soon enough," he growled. "And if you would give me a son, Thorongil would not have to lead the armies."

I clenched my stomach. "I am leaving." I turned around and slammed the door behind me. I was so mad I could hardly breathe. I managed to stumble into a courtyard and sit down, still clenching my stomach.

"Finduilas?" I turned around and saw Ecthelion walking into the courtyard. "Are you all right?"

I lowered my head. "I do not know anymore."

Ecthelion sat down next to me. "I heard your argument with Denethor," he continued.

"I am sorry," I said, letting a few tears fall down my face. "I fear I am drifting further away from your son."

"Why?" he asked gently.

"His love has turned to hate," I said. "He... he is not..."

"I know," Ecthelion said. "Denethor is not like other men, is he?"

I shook my head. Ecthelion sighed, standing up. "Do you know why your father and I arranged for you to marry Denethor?"

"N-no," I stuttered, wiping my eyes.

"Because no other woman would have him," Ecthelion said wearily. "He does not appeal to women; he is not interested in them. Your father told me of your kindness and generosity. I thought that perhaps you would bring out a side of my son that I had not yet seen, and you did. In the earlier days of your marriage, Denethor was so happy; he would smile frequently and spend time outside of his study. But now, the burden of producing an heir has weighed him down to the man he was before he married you."

"My lord..." I said.

"Ecthelion," he said. "Please, call me by my name."

"Ecthelion," I said, faintly smiling. "I have reason to suspect that I am with-child."

Ecthelion's face lit up. "Is it possible?"

"Yes," I said, smiling. "My course has not yet come, and the physicians in the camp said that it's possible."

"I pray to the Valar that you are," Ecthelion said. "I pray that if you indeed are, you will give my line a male heir."

"I pray that also," I said. "Could I ask a favour?"

"Certainly."

"I have not yet told Denethor of this, but I am concerned for my health still. Could I have my own chamber for the time being?" I asked hopefully.

"You may," Ecthelion said. "I will tell Denethor that you are not feeling fully healed yet, and that you wish for space. Also, I have received a letter from my daughter's husband. He writes informing me that Tatiel has died of the sweat."

I quietly gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. "What of Voronda?"

"She lives," Ecthelion replied. "In fact, I have summoned for my granddaughter. Voronda shall be here in the weeks to come. Perhaps you could practise your mothering skills on her."

I chuckled. "I would be very happy to have her company once more."

"Wonderful," Ecthelion replied. He helped me stand up, and embraced me. "Hush. Everything will turn out all right in the end. I will speak to my son this evening at dinner. You can dine in your chamber if it pleases you."

I nodded. "Yes, it would please me. I feel I must write to my family and ask of their health. Have you heard from them?"

Ecthelion shook his head. "I am afraid not. But you may write to your father on my behalf."

"Thank you, Ecthelion."


	15. A Lost Love

I woke up in my new chamber, feeling unwell. Slowly, I sat up and tried to get my mantle. However, I had to rush to the privy – I felt so sick!

I must have sat in the privy for hours, keeping my hair away from my face. I had never felt this awful in all my life. From the other side of the door, I could hear the footsteps of a servant bringing me my morning food. Such delicacies did not appeal to me. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep.

I managed to find the strength to get back up and dress into something proper. It took me over an hour to be fully suitable for the public eye. At first, I began to suspect that the sweat had returned, but the thought of a possible child made me grow even more confident. After eating a few pieces of fruit, I decided I was in need of some fresh air. I decided to keep away from my husband's study and our chamber, since I was in no mood to talk with him. Yet, as I walked down the long corridor, I heard the voices of men coming from the sitting room. Boldly, I stood close to the closed door to see if I could make out what was being said.

"I do not need your advice," I heard Denethor say. "She is my wife and I will act as I please around her."

"Son," Ecthelion replied, "I fear you will push her away from you. What has she done to make you so angry?"

I felt my heart starting to beat fast. I knew that I should not be listening in on their conversation, yet it concerned me, and I wanted to know what Denethor had to say.

"She has done nothing," Denethor said somberly. "She is a kind woman. The only thing Finduilas has done to displease me is act against my wishes."

"She has a free mind," Ecthelion replied. "All of Adrahil's children have free minds. He has raised Finduilas to have her own opinions."

"I suppose you are suggesting that I should accept her opinions?" Denethor asked.

"Yes," Ecthelion said. "You need to respect her."

"I do respect her!" Denethor said loudly. "I have always loved and respected her. But her opinions sway her away from the other women of the court."

"Denethor," Ecthelion said sternly, "If you do not heed my words of advice, Finduilas may... stop loving you."

I heard Denethor let out a large sigh. "I will do what I can to please her."

"Have faith," Ecthelion replied. "You have married a remarkable woman. Be proud of your marriage. Did you know Adrahil had plans to marry Finduilas to another man?"

"No," Denethor replied. "Why was I not informed of this plan?"

"Because Adrahil changed his mind," Ecthelion replied, "and you have me to thank for that. I proposed for Finduilas to come into this family with a far less dowry than the other man's family expected."

"Who was this man?" Denethor asked.

"I cannot remember his name," Ecthelion replied, "but he was one of the Commanders of the Navy."

I put my hand over my mouth. It could not have been _him_! His name was Agoron and I had loved him so dearly that I had told my father that I wished to marry him. Of course, my father had informed me that such a marriage was impossible, as he was from a family of high expectations with marriage.

Sadly, I started to walk away from the door, remembering the long argument I had with my father. I had begged him to allow the dowry they required of me. I had told my family that I would do anything to be Agoron's wife. I had loved Agoron for many, many years. The two of us would take walks on the beach and he would take me out sailing and have romantic evenings out at sea. He would touch me where other men had never touched before, though we never consummated our love.

I felt a tear fall down my cheek. I wondered how my life would have turned out if my marriage to Agoron had gone through. I would have been far happier with him, and I would be by the sea still and close to my family. I wondered, if I wrote to him, would he reply? When my betrothal to Denethor was made public in Dol Amroth, I remembered the look of shock and disappointment on Agoron's face. He never stayed for the celebration. That was the last time I ever saw him.

I walked into the library and over to a desk. I decided I must write to Agoron and ask for his forgiveness. After scrunching up several pieces of paper, I finally had a letter ready to send.

_Dearest Agoron,_

_It has been over two years since our last acquaintance. I must ask how your health is, and how your life is treating you. My life here in Minas Tirith is not how I expected it to be. Life is far busier, and the shadow of Mordor has started to frighten me. I honestly do not understand how the people can live so close to the Dark Lord. I am having nightmares, and I know it is because of Mordor. I am so afraid, so very afraid. _

_How is Dol Amroth? I heard the Sweating illness has made its presence in the city. How badly has it affected the coast? Please inform me that you are well. I would be greatly devastated if something has happened to you. _

_After everything that we have meant to each other, I would hate for you to despise me for marrying Denethor. It was my father and Lord Ecthelion who arranged the marriage. I had nothing to do with the agreement. _

_Only today did I discover that my father had made an agreement with your family for a possible marriage between you and me. Did you know of this? If so, why did you not tell me? My life would have been far more exciting if I was your wife. Denethor is not like you. He is not a sailor, a soldier, or anything that is very thrilling. He spends most of his time in his study, pouring over documents and making military decisions without ever setting foot on the battlefield. I thought I loved him – during the early days of our marriage. Now, I have seen him for what he really is. His moods changes consistently, and I never know what to expect from him. Lately, all he and I have done is argue. It started when the sweating illness came. My handmaiden became ill and Denethor would not allow me to help her. Sadly, she died, and I too caught the sweat. _

_I am well now, and I have reason to suspect that I could be with-child. I do hope that I am, and that I am carrying a boy. I have no desire to share a chamber with Denethor for a long time. For now, all I want to do is take care of myself. _

_If you will accept my forgiveness, I wish to see you sometime in the near future. I miss you._

_With my love,_

_Princess Finduilas _

_Minas Tirith_

I placed the letter into an envelope, sealing it closed with the seal of the House of Stewards. I kissed the letter before having it sent away.

**...**

Dinner that evening turned out to be quite uncomfortable. Denethor kept his eyes on his plate and refused to make eye contact with anybody.

"Well," Ecthelion said, "I have a desire to ride to Osgiliath tomorrow. Would either of you care to join me?"

"No," I replied politely. "I would like to stay in the citadel for some time."

"That is a shame," Ecthelion replied. "Denethor?"

"I suppose a ride couldn't hurt," Denethor said.

"Excellent," Ecthelion said. "Captain Thorongil will be joining us."

Denethor looked at his father sharply. "Why is _he_ joining us?"

"Because, it was Thorongil's idea," Ecthelion replied.

Denethor stood up and left the dining hall. Ecthelion sighed. "I have tried to reason with him."

"Your words did not comfort him?" I asked.

"No," Ecthelion replied. "Perhaps yours may."

"Perhaps," I replied. "But, I do not think he is willing to heed my words."

"Hmm. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," I replied. "However, I was a little ill this morning."

"More reason for you to suspect that you are with-child," Ecthelion said, smiling.

"I believe I will go and speak to a physician tomorrow if I am sick once more in the morning," I said.

"I shall have a physician come and check on you when you wake up," he replied. "I would like the woman who is carrying my grandchild to be greatly looked after."

I smiled warmly. "Thank you, Ecthelion. I believe I shall retire now."

Ecthelion nodded. "I shall see you late tomorrow afternoon after I have returned from Osgiliath. I hope you will have confirmation on your possible condition."

"I hope so too," I replied. "I shall see you in the morning."

I walked out of the dining room with a smile on my face. Tomorrow everything would change.


	16. Trying to Find Peace and Quiet

**July 2977**

I woke the next day feeling the same illness I had experienced the previous morning. I found this to be a positive sign of being with-child. Ecthelion kept his word, and a female physician came to my chamber. I supposed it was good timing when she came, for I was on my knees in the privy, trying to keep my hair out of the way. Half an hour later, after being examined and answering her many questions, it was confirmed. I was with-child.

I felt excited and nervous at the same time. I was now in charge of not only myself, but an innocent child as well. I knew I would have to tell Denethor, so I walked quickly to the chamber we shared, hoping that he had not yet left.

"Denethor," I said, opening the chamber door. To my luck, he was still there putting his riding gloves on.

"Finduilas," he said in a surprised tone.

"I have something I need to tell you," I said, walking over to him.

"What is it?" he asked, turning his back on me as he moved away to grab his cloak.

"I am with-child," I said simply.

Denethor spun around. "Are you certain?"

"I am," I replied. "A physician has just confirmed it."

My husband quickly clipped his cloak on and walked over to me. Picking up my hand, he kissed it. "This is wonderful news," he said. "However, I would like you to return to our chamber."

I lowered my eyes. I really had no desire to share a bed with him so soon. "I see no reason why I should not." I decided that I must do it, just to keep the peace.

As Denethor left, I walked over to the bed and collapsed onto it. It was still early in the morning, yet I felt like I had been on my feet for an entire day. I believed my exhaustion to be another symptom, but I was glad my morning sickness had passed for the day. I placed my hand over my stomach and wondered what other symptoms I would have in the months to come. I had heard that other women had experienced sore breasts and dizziness. All I hoped was that I would have an easy journey into motherhood.

I decided to think of possible names for the child. I knew Denethor wanted to call his son 'Boromir,' but there was also a chance that I would give birth to a daughter. I loved the name 'Halveth'. It was Sindarin for seashell. A name like that gave me a warm reminder of the beautiful landscape I longed to see. I then began to wonder when Denethor would permit me to see Dol Amroth again. I knew I would not be allowed to leave Minas Tirith during my childbearing stage, but perhaps after the child was born, my husband would allow me to travel to the sea. I would have liked to show the sea to my child and let the warm ocean breeze sweep over our faces.

I was rather looking forward to being a mother. I could not wait to teach my child all the life's lessons and the arts and crafts of Gondor. Knowing that I would be in charge of the child's tutoring, I intended to give my child the highest education possible. If I had a son, I knew he would one day be the Steward of Gondor. Therefore, I wanted my son to become a wise and kind ruler. I wanted him to sympathise for the poor and be a strong leader. But I knew Denethor had intentions on giving his son a full education in becoming a soldier. I understood Denethor's wishes, but I did not want my son's head filled with thoughts of war and grief at a young age. I wanted any child that I had to have a fun and exciting childhood. But I knew in the end, most decision concerning my child would be made by Denethor. I just hoped that he would make the right decisions.

Word reached my ears that the sweating plague had caused the deaths of three of Lord Tarondor's children - his second son, Falchon, and two daughters, Felessil and Angwen. Poor little Angwen; she had appeared so excited about being able to swim. I wept at the news. My heart went out for Lady Duvaimes. She had lost both her daughters and a son. I tried not to allow the news to affect me too deeply, for I did not want to harm my unborn babe; I had to be strong for my child. A funeral procession was to be held for the three children of Linhir, followed by three months of mourning throughout Linhir. I chose to wear mourning in respect of the House of Linhir, despite living in Minas Tirith. Even Denethor agreed to show such respect. It made my heart warm towards him; that he could show such compassion and sympathy towards such young, vulnerable children, whose lives had been taken unnecessarily. I would pray for them; I would pray for Lady Duvaimes and her remaining family. No words or thoughts could comprehend the amount of grief they all were suffering.

**...**

By the end of the day, Ecthelion and Denethor had returned from Osgiliath with Thorongil. I decided to remain in a back courtyard rather than greet them. I felt no desire to be overwhelmed with words of congratulations. For now, I only wanted the joy of tranquillity. I sat at a round stone table as I sketched with charcoal. I had not done any drawing since I arrived in Minas Tirith, and I had missed it. I was sketching the large, white flower in front of me when I heard shouting coming from the hallway.

"It is a plausible action!" Denethor shouted.

I quickly moved out of sight, behind a large hedge. I sat down on the soft grass, praying that nobody would enter the courtyard.

"It has never been used by the Stewards," Ecthelion said sternly. "If I discover that you have been using the Palantir, I will be gravely disappointed."

"I would never use such a device without your consent," Denethor replied. "But I see it as a powerful way to infiltrate the Enemy."

"Our defences are strong!" Ecthelion retaliated. "Not only do we have strong defences, but we have Thorongil leading the army."

I hugged me knees as I heard a door slam loudly. Everything was now so quiet that I feared to breathe. I started to hear footsteps approaching the courtyard and I saw the back of Ecthelion. He sat down at the stone table. I felt that I should present myself to him, but I found myself content where I was. The hedge secluded me from the hallway and a bush was in front of me. Ecthelion would only have been able to see me if he stood up and looked in my direction.

"Lord Ecthelion," I heard Thorongil say. I saw the man approach the Steward, taking a seat opposite him. "I fear I am causing far too much strife in your house."

"Do not burden yourself with such thoughts," Ecthelion replied. "Denethor is an incredibly stubborn man." I heard Ecthelion chuckle. "He has inherited that trait from his mother."

"Perhaps this child that Finduilas is carrying will lighten his mood," Thorongil said.

"I hope so." Ecthelion sighed heavily. "I have other matters to worry about. Denethor wishes to use the Palantir, but I see that device as dangerous and unpredictable."

"I agree," Thorongil replied. "The Palantir has not been used in many hundreds of year. Also, it is rumoured that the enemy controls one of the lost Palantirs. It would be unfortunate for the enemy to gain access into the citadel."

"It would be," Ecthelion said. "I would ask you to reason with my son, but he does not seem to heed any of your council."

"Perhaps it is time that I leave," Thorongil replied.

"Leave!" Ecthelion said. "You must not leave. That is a command!"

"If it is what you command of me, then I shall stay. But I must tell you that I have business in the North," Thorongil said.

"I shall dismiss your service in three months," Ecthelion replied. "Do you have intentions on returning?"

"I believe I shall return for the summer of next year," Thorongil answered.

"Very well," Ecthelion said, standing up. "I believe I must rest now. My health has improved, but I am still not as strong as I used to be."

Once I was left alone in the courtyard, I managed to crawl out of my hiding space. I felt like a fool by my actions, but all I wanted at the time was peace and quiet. I walked out of the courtyard, thinking about the conversation I had overheard. I did not know exactly what the Palantir was. All I knew was that it was some sort of communication device used by the Kings of Old. I knew the story of one Palantir being lost in the ocean off the Bay of Forochel. In fact, I had no idea until then that there was a Palantir in Minas Tirith. If there were rumours that the enemy possessed such a device, then surely what Denethor had in mind would result in communication with the Enemy – the Dark Lord!

Had my husband lost his mind? Why would he risk such a thing?

I began to wonder where the Palantir was. If I could, I wanted to take it from the citadel and bury it in a place where nobody would be able to find it. I dearly wished to confront my husband with the matter, but I feared it would start another argument between us. Now that I was carrying his child, I wished for our old marriage to return. Even if I may be reluctant to love him as dearly as I did, it would be in the best interest of our child to have a mother and father who loved each other. That was my goal.

Late in the evening after dinner was eaten and I had bathed, I made my way into the chamber I shared with Denethor. I saw him sitting by the window watching Mount Doom erupt from behind the black mountains of Mordor. It affected me that we had such a view from our chamber.

"Husband," I said, walking over to the window. "Must you watch such a sight?"

"Yes," Denethor replied grimly. "That sight is the Enemy of my realm. It is my duty to keep watch over it."

"But must you keep watch in the warmth of our chamber?" I asked. Slowly, I drew the curtains together. "We need to talk."

Denethor sighed and stood up. "I know."

"Our... relationship has not been as... loving as it used to be," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I know," Denethor replied. "But you must realise that I still love you as dearly as I have always loved you."

I nodded. "Yes Denethor, I realise that."

"And you still love me the same?" Denethor asked hopefully.

"Yes," I lied. I did not to argue, as I did not want to explain how I felt towards him, for that would lead to _another_ argument. "Married couples always go through rough patches."

Denethor smiled. "You are right. But now we must forget our troubles, for a child is on the way."

"I agree," I replied, rubbing my lower abdomen. "Do you still wish to call our son Boromir?"

"Most certainly," Denethor replied. "I will not allow any other name to be given to him."

I nodded, feeling like a very obedient wife. "Have you informed your father?"

Denethor hesitated. "I told him of the news today as we rode to Osgiliath. He is most pleased."

"I am glad that he is pleased," I replied. "Is there any news of Voronda?"

"She should be arriving sometime next week," Denethor said. "You will be in charge of her during her stay. Having my niece here will be good practise for your mothering skills."

Mothering skills? Did he suspect that I was clueless when it came to children? "I will be very glad to see her again. I have missed her company."

"Mmm," Denethor said. "Her father has intentions on re-marrying. His desire for a male heir is still strong, as is mine."

I was glad his back was turned away from me, for I glared at his remark. "I am sure Voronda will be a wonderful sister to any siblings her future stepmother brings into this world."

Denethor sighed and turned around. "Do you honestly think Voronda is here for a visit? No, she has been sent here to live. Her father does not wish to care for her. When Voronda is of age she will be sent back to Lamedon."

"So Voronda is to grow up without either of her parents?" I asked, shocked. "That is most cruel for an innocent child."

"Cruel or not, it is the way it has to be," Denethor replied. "If we do not take her in, then she will be sent to live somewhere else, away from all the family she has."

"Very well," I said, sighing. "I am exhausted; I feel I must rest now."

"Of course," Denethor replied. "Sleep now. I shall return later this evening."

"Where are you going?" I asked as I got under the blankets.

"To speak to someone," Denethor replied. "It is nothing that concerns you."

Whatever he was doing, it sounded suspicious, but I was far too tired to be bothered with it. I rolled over and faced the wall. In an instant, I had fallen asleep.


	17. What the Future will Bring

**August 2977**

In the month of August, everything had changed. Captain Thorongil left, and I watched Lord Ecthelion become saddened over his departure. Of course, my husband's mood lightened and was far more talkative around people. I took his change of mood as a good sign. With Denethor's high spirits, I was able to get along with him more easily. But, the best thing that had happened in that month, was that Voronda arrived! I was so ecstatic to see her that I embraced her for a long time.

"Princess Finduilas, you are taking all my breath away!" Voronda said.

I released my grip and noticed her eyes were red. "My dear girl, have you been crying?"

Voronda nodded. "I miss my mama."

"I know," I replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I miss her too."

"Do you think she is somewhere better?" Voronda asked hopefully. "I would feel better knowing that she is happy."

"Of course she is somewhere happy," I answered. "She is now resting in a place where she can forever be happy and still see you."

Voronda smiled. "I was told that I am to live with you now."

I nodded. "You are. How does that make you feel?"

Voronda shrugged. "I am not sure. You are nice, so I suppose I could be happy living here."

I chuckled. "I am positive your life here in the Citadel will prove to be pleasant."

"I shall take your word for it, Princess Finduilas," Voronda replied, gazing at the scenery around her.

I hesitated. "Voronda, now that you shall be living with me, I would like you to call me auntie Finduilas."

Voronda lowered her eyes and remained silent for a few moments. "Very well, auntie Finduilas."

I grinned, embracing her lightly. "Thank you, my darling. Now come, I am to show you to your chamber."

"Do I not get to stay in the nursery?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, I am afraid not this time. You see, I am with-child."

Voronda's face lit up. "You are going to have a baby?"

I laughed. "Yes, I am."

"That means I am going to have a cousin to play with!" Voronda said happily.

"You shall," I replied, touching the tip of her nose. "So the nursery has been set up for your cousin, for when he or she arrives."

"I hope it is a girl," Voronda replied. "Girls are far more gentle to play with."

"Boy or girl, your cousin shall be gentle. Besides, you will be the older cousin, and peers must respect those older than them," I replied.

Voronda nodded in agreement. "I hope you are right. So what chamber shall I stay in now?"

"Come," I said, holding her hand. "I shall show you."

I led Voronda down many corridors until we came near the end of the palace. "This is a long walk," Voronda complained. "Why am I to live in this section of the palace?"

"Because," I started, "the view from your window will be far more enjoyable and pleasurable."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You will not be able to see the land of Mordor from this section of the palace," I replied. "Instead you will be able to see the White Mountains and the plains of Lossarnach in the distance."

Voronda nodded. "Lossarnach is a very pretty place."

"It is," I replied. "I would love to visit there again."

"Can I come with you?" Voronda asked hopefully.

"You may," I replied.

We reached the chamber door and when I opened it, Voronda jumped up and down with excitement. "It is so pretty," she squealed, "and so big!"

I laughed and entered the chamber. It was not as large as the other chambers in the palace. In fact, it was one of the smallest. However, I had to agree with Voronda – the chamber was very pretty. The curtains draped to the ground in shades of light blue and pink. There was a four-poster bed and a dressing table. Honestly, it was not much for the granddaughter of the Steward of Gondor, but I supposed at the time it was suitable for a little girl to be sheltered from the shadow of Mordor.

"You have some new dresses," I said, moving toward the dresser.

"I do!" Voronda exclaimed, skipping over to me. "How many?"

"Five," I replied. "It is only a start, but I thought we could go and buy some more cloth in the days to come."

"I-I," Voronda stammered. "Do I deserve it?"

I knelt down. "Why would you say that?"

"Because," she replied. "I had to deserve such kindness back home."

I sighed. "You are the Steward of Gondor's granddaughter. You are entitled to such luxuries."

"Am I really that important?" Voronda asked.

I nodded. "You are."

Voronda walked around the room, taking in all the detail. "Are you the only person who is going to look after me?"

"No," I replied, standing back up. "You are to be given two handmaidens. They will care for you daily and wait upon you at night. Also, if need be, one of them shall remain in the chamber during the night if you wish not to be alone."

Voronda smiled sadly. "Mama used to stay with me during the nights."

I kissed Voronda's forehead. "Come, you are required to present yourself to your grandfather, Lord Ecthelion."

As we left the chamber and made our way to the Steward's study, we met Denethor along the way.

"Uncle Denethor," Voronda said, giving him her best curtsy.

Denethor knelt down and gave his niece a kiss on the cheek. "My dear Voronda, how are you?"

"I am well," Voronda replied. "But I miss mama."

Denethor sighed. "We all do. She is in a better place now."

"I know," Voronda said, grabbing my hand. "Auntie Finduilas has already told me so."

Denethor stood up, looking at me. "Your aunt is quite wise."

"I know that as well," Voronda replied.

Denethor smiled. "Are you both going to see the Steward?"

"Yes," I answered. "Would you care to join us?"

"Certainly," Denethor replied.

I accepted his offer to take his arm, and I held Voronda's hand with me free one. I felt rather... uncomfortable. I could not feel as close to him as I once did. Not after our public quarrel. I could never forget how he treated me that day, despite my reckless behaviour.

Denethor opened the study door for us, and Voronda gave Ecthelion a deep curtsy.

"Ah!" Ecthelion said, standing up. "My beautiful granddaughter! Come!" He held his arms out, and Voronda ran into them.

"Grandfather," Voronda said quietly. "I am to live with you now."

"You are," Ecthelion replied. "How does that make you feel?"

Voronda shrugged. "I was sad at first. I did not want to leave my home for good. But I am happy now."

Ecthelion smiled. "I assure you that your time here shall be pleasing by all means possible."

I could not help but smile. Voronda was such a beautiful girl, and her smile filled my heart with such warmth and happiness. I felt so fortunate that she would be living in the citadel when my child was to be born. I knew I could count on her to help in the nursery.

After Voronda was reunited with her grandfather and uncle, I spent most of the day in Voronda's chamber, helping her unpack her belongings and settle in. Sitting by the window, I watched the people below hurry around the city. It was quite a beautiful sight. No matter what direction I looked in, I could not see the Shadow of Mordor. It made me feel so happy and content, being able to find a place in Minas Tirith that did not give a view of such darkness.

"My lady." I turned to the door and saw one of my handmaidens enter and curtsy. "A letter has just arrived for you."

"Thank you," I replied, receiving the letter. My heart skipped a beat when I opened the letter and noticed Agoron's signature at the bottom.

_Princess Finduilas,_

_I am very glad to hear that you are in good health and that you are with-child. I wish you all the best for the life you have made in Minas Tirith. I have no doubts that you are being looked after exceedingly. I, too, am in good health. The sweating illness did not plague Dol Amroth as severely as other cities of Gondor. Your family is fine. In fact, I have been sailing with Imrahil quite frequently. Your brother speaks of you often, so I am kept well informed of your progress in Minas Tirith. _

_I am deeply sorry that you are enduring nightmares. I wish I could be there to comfort you. In saying that, I have never hated you or thought ill of your actions. Nor do I blame your father. It was my father, who delayed our betrothal, and for his actions, I shall never forgive him. He stole the one chance of my receiving such a jewel in this world that I have longed desired to have in my keeping. So now, that jewel has been given to another man. A man, who I thought at the time, did not deserve it. Perhaps I was wrong to think as I did. With the arrangements for our betrothal, I was aware of them. I had intentions on surprising you. Obviously, these plans did not go according to plan. _

_As for the jewel I have lost forever, I do hope that she is happy. _

_I still love you, but now, you are untouchable. I have reason to suspect that Lord Denethor would be suspicious of me if I ever show my face in Minas Tirith. I hope that one day, in the near future, I do hope to see you in the flesh. I miss you. I am willing to risk everything that I own just to see you. I shall not come to Minas Tirith without your consent. I would hate to make you unhappy or uncomfortable. _

_Tell me of your marriage. I am eager to know how Lord Denethor treats you as his wife. I know so little of him. In fact, the only information I am told of him is from Imrahil. From the way Imrahil speaks of him, I have reason to suspect that your brother is not highly fond of him. Do you know why? Has the Lord Denethor done something to displease him? _

_I must cease this letter here, for I am being called to duty on my ship. The Corsairs are far more daring these days. _

_With all the love I bare, _

_Lord Agoron,_

_Commander of the Fleet of Dol Amroth _

I could feel tears swelling in my eyes. I was not certain what my emotions were - they were mixed. I was joyed because I had not lost Agoron's love, but sad at the same time because I missed him and felt guilty. I felt I needed to blame someone for this mess, but I did not know whom.

I folded the letter and placed it up the sleeve of my gown. I did not want to know what the penalties were if someone had discovered this communication between a man I was in love with. Valar! I felt like such a fool. I had found myself in the worst situation possible. If Denethor knew...

I shuddered just thinking about it. I knew what I was getting into was so very dangerous. Denethor had spies. Ecthelion had spies. In fact, nearly every Lord in Minas Tirith had spies working for them. I wondered if my husband would put me under surveillance. I was not planning to be romantic with Agoron. I would never ruin my honour. I just wanted to see Agoron again. I knew Denethor would not allow me to spend time alone with a man he did not know or trust.

I suppose I should be grateful to be married to a man who wanted nothing more than to protect me, but I did not need protection from my friends.

I suppose only time will bring out the fortune and misfortune of the events to come...


	18. Apricot and Letters from Dol Amroth

**August 2977**

A week had passed since Voronda had arrived in Minas Tirith. I was glad to see that she was settled into a nice routine. I was put in charge of her education, and I made sure that she excelled in all the areas that she studied. Voronda's favourite class was music. She loved playing the harp, and had begged me to allow the instrument to be moved to her chamber.

"Do you play other instruments?" I asked as I watched her play with her dolls.

"I can play the flute," Voronda replied, "but I have never had time to practise with other instruments."

I nodded. "Well, I believe you play beautifully with the harp!"

Voronda looked up at me and smiled brightly. "Thank you!"

"What about your other classes?" I asked. "Do you enjoy them?"

Voronda shrugged. "I like art and calligraphy, but I do not enjoy history."

"Why not history?" I asked.

"Because, it is boring and everything I have studied is sad," she replied.

"Not all of our history is sad," I argued.

"All of the important parts are sad," Voronda said. "The big war against the Dark Lord and his destruction, and then the Line of Kings ending. It is all sad."

I grimaced - she did have a point. "Well, the quicker you study history, the quicker the class will end."

"But I do not like reading the big books," Voronda complained. "I would rather play with my dollies."

I chuckled. "Whatever are you talking about?"

"The big books!" Voronda repeated, stretching her arms apart. "The really big books in the library with lots of pages of endless writing."

I nodded. "Oh, those books. Yes, well they can be rather boring."

"Mhm," Voronda replied. "But my tutor tells me that I am doing well in my calligraphy. He says that I will be able to write a proper letter soon without any mistakes!"

"Wonderful," I said. "And who shall you write to?"

"Umm," Voronda replied. "I suppose I could write to my papa."

"I am sure he would like to hear from you," I said.

"Do you think my papa is missing me?" Voronda asked.

"He should be," I answered. I really did not know what was going through the mind of Voronda's father, but the child needed a positive environment to live in, especially now that her mother had died.

"Auntie Finduilas," Voronda said, grabbing my attention once more.

"Yes?"

"I made a friend yesterday," she said. "His name is Baranion, and he is training to be a Knight of Gondor."

"How old is he?" I queried.

"My age," Voronda replied. "He is taller than me, though."

"Where did you meet him?" I asked.

"On the sixth level," she answered. "One of my tutors decided to take me down into the city and learn the culture of Gondor first hand. We met up with another tutor who was with his students. Baranion was among them."

"Is he the son of a Lord?" I asked.

Voronda shrugged. "I do not know. We did not talk about our families. Instead, we talked about puppies and other cute animals that were in the street. Did you know you can buy baby chickens?"

"Yes," I laughed.

"Can I have one?" Voronda asked shyly.

"Where would you put it?" I asked. "It cannot roam around the citadel."

"I know that," Voronda said, folding her arms. "You say silly things sometimes, auntie Finduilas!"

"Then where would your baby chicken live?" I asked, resisting the urge to laugh, as she seemed very serious on the matter.

"The cooks in the royal kitchens have a back courtyard where their chickens live," Voronda replied. "My baby chicken could live with them."

I nodded. "That sounds possible to do."

"I know," Voronda replied. "Otherwise I would not have said it."

I chuckled. "Well, how about we go down to the kitchens and ask the cooks if it is all right?"

Voronda stood up excitedly. "Yay!"

I tried to keep up with Voronda as she skipped down to the kitchens. I could not run very fast, and walking at a reasonable pace made me feel exhausted. Finally, we arrived at the kitchens to find only one cook.

"Excuse me," I said.

The elderly woman turned to look at me and curtsied. "My lady," she said, "what may I do for you?"

I gestured for Voronda to stand in front of me. "Lady Voronda would like to ask you something."

Voronda looked up at me doubtfully, but after nodding to her, she took a deep breath. "I would like to buy a baby chicken at the markets, but it cannot live in the citadel. Could I please let my baby chicken live with your chickens?"

The cook laughed. "I see no harm in that! My chickens have chicks of their own, so yours will have some playmates."

Voronda grinned. "Playmates would be good."

The cook laughed again. "Quite a bright child you are. When shall I expect your chick?"

Voronda looked up at me. "This afternoon," I answered. "We are going down to the markets now."

Voronda was so thrilled with the idea of owning her own pet, that she would not stop talking about it all the way to the markets.

"It needs to have a name," Voronda demanded. "What names do people give chickens?"

"I honestly do not know," I replied. "Perhaps chickens do not have names."

"They must have names," Voronda insisted. "At least _my_ chicken will have a name."

"Very well," I said.

"And it has to be a girl chicken," she continued, "and fluffy!"

I laughed. "You have very high expectations for this chick!"

"Of course!" Voronda exclaimed. "If it is going to be _my_ chicken, then it will be a royal chicken."

"A royal chicken," I repeated, chuckling.

"Yes," Voronda declared. "It shall be the only royal chicken in all of Gondor!"

I grinned, wondering how Voronda came up with that idea. Just as we reached the beginning of the sixth level, a man stopped us and handed me two letters.

"They are from Dol Amroth," the man replied.

I nodded. "Thank you."

"More letters?" Voronda inquired.

I gave Voronda an odd look.

"You _always_ are getting letters these days," she continued. "Why?"

"I... they are from my family," I replied. "See, this letter has the Royal Seal of Dol Amroth."

"Is it from your papa then?" she asked.

"Possibly," I replied. "Or my brother or sister." I looked at the seal of the second letter and saw it was from Agoron. I felt my heart starting to beat faster. I had replied to him the day I received his letter, telling him I would be glad to see him after my child was born. Now, I wanted nothing more than to rip open his letter and see what he had to say.

"Sunshine!" Voronda exclaimed loudly.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Sunshine," she repeated. "I could name my chicken that."

I nodded. "That is a pretty name."

"There they are!" she said happily, pointing to a stall that had cages of chicks.

I stood patiently and watched as Voronda peered into every cage. "I don't know what colour I should get," she said, stroking a chick's head.

I chuckled. "Darling, you are not choosing fabric for a new gown. They are chicks."

"Still," she said, looking at me, "colour matters."

I shared a smile with the stall owner, and knowing that Voronda would take her sweet dear time, I decided to open the letter from my family.

It was from Imrahil.

_Dearest Sister,_

_I must congratulate you and Lord Denethor on your wonderful condition. Being with-child is quite remarkable. Father and Ivriniel send their love. In fact, father would have written to you also, but he has been quite busy lately. I am afraid you will not hear much from Ivriniel. She still dresses in mourning, and does not even walk along the beach anymore. I fear for her mental wellbeing. You and Ivriniel were close growing up, and you were both reluctant to be separated when you had to leave from Dol Amroth. Perhaps if you wrote to her she may feel better. I would ask you to visit, but I know how times are dangerous, and Lord Denethor does not seem eager to allow you to see Dol Amroth any time soon. _

_Some other news has reached my ears. I have been sailing with Lord Agoron these past weeks, and he has told me that you were both in contact with another. At first, I did not believe him, but now I have reason to suspect so. He showed me your signature at the bottom of a letter. Finduilas, why are you writing to him? Surely, you do not want to open an old love wound. I have fears and doubts about this communication. What would happen if Denethor discovered this? Do you know what the punishments are if a wife is unfaithful to their husband? I am not assuming that you would do anything dishonourable with Agoron, but I do know your history with him. In fact, the whole of Dol Amroth knows of your history with Lord Agoron, even Lord Ecthelion does. As a brother, I must warn you to be careful. I know Denethor loves you, as he writes so in his letters to father. But your husband seems to have these times where his personality changes rapidly. Please, please do not do anything foolish. For the sake of privacy, I have not told father or Ivriniel. However, there is a possibility that Lord Ecthelion has already told Denethor. You need to be careful. _

_I trust Agoron with my life, and I know he would not do anything foolish that concerns you. So once again, heed my words of advice. They may prove useful in the near future. _

_Hope everything else is well. _

_With all my love,_

_Your brother,_

_Imrahil_

_Prince of Dol Amroth_

I quickly folded up the letter, as I felt like I was committing a crime. I turned around and looked in every direction to see if someone had been watching me. From then on, I started to feel anxious about what I had started. Imrahil was right, though. I had to be very, _very_ careful.

"Auntie Finduilas," Voronda sang.

"Yes darling?" I asked, focusing back on her.

"I have found the perfect baby chicken," she answered happily.

The stall owner opened one of the cages and handed Voronda a small, fluffy yellow chick. The chick chirped away, looking around uneasily.

"It is frightened," Voronda said, holding it in both her hands.

I paid the stall owner, and Voronda and I made our way back up to the Citadel. "Have you thought of a name yet?" I asked.

"Ummm," Voronda said in thought. "I don't think she looks like a Sunshine. I shall call her... Apricot!"

"Apricot," I repeated.

"Yes," Voronda replied, "because I do not like eating Apricots."

I laughed. "That is very clever."

Voronda grinned at me. "Apricot looks so frightened. Do you think she will settle down in her new home?"

"Of course she will," I replied. "The other chickens will take good care of her."

"I hope so," Voronda replied.

Once Apricot was put in with the other chickens, I let Voronda stay there, playing with her new pet, while I sat in the kitchens and read my second letter.

_My dear Finduilas,_

_I shall be very glad to meet you after your child is born. However, after discussing this with your brother, I believe my presence in the citadel will not be warmly welcome. I believe the only way for us to meet is somewhere more private. For that to happen, you will need to tell me where privacy is available in Minas Tirith. If it proves to be far too difficult, then I shall abandon my plans to journey there. The last thing I want is for your life to be at risk. Imrahil has told me that Denethor can be a cold man and that not even Ecthelion thinks highly of him. This new information makes me wonder why your father ever allowed you to wed such a man. _

_For now, writing is all we can do for each other. _

_You wrote in your last letter that you were afraid of spies discovering us. Do you have reason to suspect that your husband has men spying on you? Surely, these letters cannot be suspicious. You must receive letters from Dol Amroth all the time. If you wish, I have a servant who can deliver our letters privately. I am sending him to Minas Tirith with this letter and another from your brother. If you wish to reply, my servant will be staying at the 'Old Brew Tavern'. His name is Daechon and you can rely on him. He has been serving me for many years now. _

_Until I hear from you again,_

_With my love,_

_Agoron_

I sat back in the chair, feeling quite relieved. I was glad Agoron had thought ahead and sent a messenger of his own. This would lower the chance of our communication being discovered by someone who should not know.

Somewhere Private...

I did not know anywhere in Minas Tirith that was private. But then again, I had plenty of months to find a good place to meet Agoron.

**...**

_I opened my eyes, enjoying my memories of the life I had endured. I saw Denethor standing by the window. He did not look at me, for he had not looked at me for many days now. I honestly did not know if he had forgiven me. _

"_Denethor," I said softly. _

_He slowly turned around and looked at me affectionately, as if nothing terrible had happened between us. "You are awake," he said. _

"_You are not angry with me anymore?" I asked. _

"_Why must you bring... that up?" he said heatedly. "Why must you always bring the past to the present?"_

_With that, he stormed out of the chamber, leaving me feeling more afraid than ever. _


	19. An Heir is Born

**December 2977**

Months had passed since Voronda had arrived in Minas Tirith. In those months, I ended up spending more time with Voronda than with my own husband. Denethor started to seclude himself away from everyone while he worked out plans to expand the armies. I did not really understand why he enjoyed working on his own. You would think that working on a delicate situation would require more than one mind at work.

In those four months, I was also deathly ill in the mornings. It became so bad that it drained nearly all of my energy. Most of the days, I would remain in bed and rest. During that time, Voronda would join me and I would listen to her practise her reading and watched her draw pictures of Apricot. I found it quite intriguing that Voronda had grown so attached to a chicken. Most children wanted a pet dog or cat, but never a chicken.

Apricot had grown a fair bit, and Voronda had spoiled it so much that the poor chicken was becoming quite plump.

"I want Apricot to have babies," Voronda said one day as she rested next to me.

"Why?" I asked sleepily.

"Because, then I can have more baby chickens!" Voronda exclaimed.

"Has she even laid eggs yet?" I asked.

Voronda shook her head. "No."

"Then you will need to wait until she produces eggs first," I said.

"When Apricot grows up and has babies, can she have a house of her own?" Voronda asked.

I chuckled softly. "Chickens do not live in homes."

"I meant chicken homes," Voronda said. "Apricot will need more room."

"Very well," I said, sighing. "I am sure we can arrange something by the time that day arrives."

Word arrived in Minas Tirith that Voronda's father, Lord Angbor had remarried. It was expected, but I could not believe whom it was he married. She was not even of noble blood! Her name was Mistress Níndes. She was the daughter of Lord Angbor's secretary, and if rumour served truthfully, Mistress Níndes had conceived Lord Angbor's child out of wedlock. I supposed it should not have surprised me that he would do such a thing, but I felt so sorry for Voronda; she was innocent in all this mess. Denethor and Ecthelion sent a purse of gold in congratulations of the marriage and the now _Lady _Níndes condition. I would only ever accept this woman if she sent for Voronda to return to Lamedon, where she would be warmly welcomed by her new stepmother.

Time went by, and still my pregnancy caused me to have terrible mood swings and severe illnesses in the mornings. Sometimes I could barely move because of it. The physicians continued to tell me that I was one of the misfortunate women in Middle-earth to suffer symptoms of child bearing so severely.

When I began to show, Denethor started to dote on me. His actions made me wonder if before I was visibly with-child, he may have doubted my condition. I suppose it did take five months before people were looking at my stomach. I enjoyed having Denethor care for me devotedly as he did during those months. He told me to never get out of bed if I did not feel up to it, and I was given anything that I wished for. That also meant that Denethor gave me permission to have Voronda's classes in our chamber. For when I was almost full term, I found it incredibly hard to walk long distances. I spent most of my days sitting in my chamber with the curtains closed. There was no way I would look at Mordor, or let the thought of such evil enter my mind while I was carrying an innocent child.

"What are you going to name the baby?" Voronda asked one day. She and I were sitting on the bed as she placed her hand on my stomach to feel the baby kick.

"If it's a boy, then Boromir," I replied.

"Boromir," she repeated. "There is a Boromir in our history."

I nodded. "There is. I see you have been paying more attention to your history lessons."

Voronda smiled. "It's not so bad anymore."

I rested back on the pillows as I winced in pain. The baby was stretching... or at least I presumed it was, for it would push against my ribs, making it rather hard for me to breathe.

"Are you all right?" Voronda asked, watching my face.

"Yes," I said, trying to position myself up more. "The child is moving a little too much for my sake."

"Is it hard having a baby inside of you?" she asked curiously.

"At first it is quite content," I started, "but then when the child grows and grows, it becomes quite a burden."

"I don't like the sound of that," Voronda replied. "I do hope I never have to carry a baby in me."

I chuckled softly. "One day when you are my age, I highly doubt you will be childless."

Voronda cringed. "No, no. I am never having babies."

"Very well then," I said gently. I felt no need to argue with the child, for she was still very young and had a lot to learn about the attributes women must carry through their lives and having children – especially a son.

"How long before the baby leaves you?" Voronda asked.

"Leaves me," I repeated. "Do you mean how long before I must give birth?"

Voronda shrugged. "I suppose."

"I am almost full term," I said. "I am quite looking forward to birthing this child."

"Why?" Voronda asked. "I have heard that having a baby is very painful."

"Is that another reason why you do not wish to have children?" I asked.

Voronda nodded. "I don't like pain."

"Neither do I," I replied. "But sometimes pain is necessary."

"I hope you won't be in pain for a long time," Voronda said. "I wouldn't like to see you sad."

I smiled weakly. "I assure you I will be fine. Do you wish to be present for the birth?"

Voronda sat in thought for a few moments. "I don't know. Will it be scary?"

I grinned. "The only person, who will find it scary, will be me."

"If you find something scary, then I will find it scary too," Voronda protested. "If you cry, I will cry."

"Darling," I said gently. "When the time comes, you can decide if you wish to be present. But if you feel it will make you upset, then I want you to go to your chamber and practise your music with the harp."

Voronda nodded. "I will."

**April 2978**

From then, it took only two more months before I found myself going into labour. It started early in the afternoon while I was watching Voronda practise her calligraphy by my bed. I felt sorry for the child, because when it started, I let out a cry of pain.

"It's happening!" she yelled, running out of the chamber.

The pain stopped briefly, and I was able to get up and take my robe off.

"Auntie Finduilas," Voronda said, running back into the chamber. "I found a servant."

I tried to smile, but the pain started again. "Thank you."

The servant helped me into a chair while Voronda was sent off to inform my husband of the news.

She returned moments later with a midwife and a few female maids. Voronda came up to my side and rested her head on my shoulder. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

I nodded. "The pain has stopped."

"For good?" she asked hopefully.

"No," I said. "It will start again."

"Should I leave?" she asked.

"That decision is up to you," I replied.

"I think I should leave," she finally said. I watched her hurry out of the chamber.

During the whole process, I wanted nothing more than for it to end. The pain was far greater than anything I could have imagined. The midwife had promised me that it seemed to be a quick birth, but seven hours of pain did not seem quick to me.

"Women who give birth for the first time are always fated to long hours," the midwife said, putting a wet cloth on my forehead.

"You said it would be quick," I moaned.

"My lady, you need to prepare to push again," she replied.

I felt my energy starting to drain. I did not know whether it was good or bad, but I had other matters to focus on. I wanted to hold onto something as I endured the pain, but all the servants were assisting the midwife at the end of the bed. It annoyed me greatly that not one of them chose to stay by my side.

"Why are you all away from me," I shouted. "I'm not a disease."

"I am sorry, my lady," the youngest servant said. "But your husband, Lord Denethor, commanded us to be of great assistance to the midwife only."

"Only," I repeated. "What about me? Did he forget about me? Am I nothing? Do I not exist?" I let out a cry of pain and frustration. "I am his wife! And right now I am _only_ attempting to give birth to his child!"

All the servants seemed to be terrified of me by my words. When I came back to my senses after the birth, I did not blame them.

"I will never do this again," I said, catching my breath. "If this is how I am to be treated during child-birth, then I am never giving... _him_ a child again."

"My lady," the midwife said. "I am sure Lord Denethor is concerned for the health of the child."

"What about my health!" I shouted. "What about me...?"

Now, when I look back at it, I was quite the terror during that birth.

It was almost over; at least that is what the midwife kept telling me. She finally gave me some good news that she could see the child's head. I sat up as straight as I could to push one last time.

I collapsed onto the pillows as I heard the cries of a child. One of the servants walked over to me and handed me a dry cloth to wipe the sweat off my face. I was still breathing heavily, but I was relieved and surprised that all the pain I had endured was now gone instantly.

"My lady," the midwife said as she walked over to my side, carrying my child. "You have given birth to a healthy boy."

I laughed. "A-a boy. Thank the Valar!" She handed me the child, and I felt tears of happiness swell in my eyes. My child – my son. He was the image of my father and brother. Though, he had Denethor's serious, dark eyes.

"Boromir," I whispered. "Hello." My son continued to cry and the midwife took him out of my arms. "May I not feed him from my own breast?"

The midwife looked at my incredulously. "A Queen... or Stewardess is not allowed to feed their own children, my lady."

My bottom lip quivered and I felt fresh tears coming to my eyes. "W-why?"

"It is the law," the midwife replied. "A wet-nurse is here to feed him, and will continue to do so until he no longer needs a woman's milk."

I lowered my head. This is not what I wanted. No, I wanted to feed my own child. My mother was permitted too, and she was the Princess of Dol Amroth! How could the laws of Minas Tirith be so strict?

Once I was cleaned and made presentable, I sat up in the bed and watched as my husband came in and looked down into the cradle on the other side of the room. I could not see his facial expression, as he had his back to me. Finally, he turned around, smiling.

"You have given me a son," he said gently as he walked over to my side. "A healthy, strong son."

I nodded. "I have. Are you pleased?"

Denethor leant over me and kissed me soundly. "I am. You have done your duty to our people."

I managed to smile. I suppose he was right. After all, it was my duty to the people to give Gondor an heir. But I did not see my son as only that. Boromir was my son, and I wanted to raise him as I pleased. I knew that would never be allowed, though. Denethor had plans for him.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Boromir will be presented to the court in two days time," Denethor replied as he held my hand. "During that time you must rest and regather your strength. When you are able to appear publicly, a celebration will be held in honour of our son's birth."

I nodded again. "Sounds wonderful."

Denethor looked at me. "Is something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No. I am just exhausted, and... well I wish my family were here for this."

"Your family is here," Denethor said. "I am your family, as is Boromir."

"You know what I mean," I said. "My brother and father... my sister."

"You have not seen them in some time, Finduilas," he said. "Who knows how long it will be before you are reacquainted with them."

I lowered my eyes. "I know. You are right."

My answer pleased him, but I did not know how long it would be before my husband's mood would change again. For now, I could sense that his love for me was far greater than it had ever been, and I knew it was because of the birth of our son.

Our son... my son... Boromir. Little Boromir of Gondor. My sweet little boy.

I heard the rumble of thunder from the window and was greatly displeased to find that somebody had opened the curtains. I saw Mordor's shadow, and I swore I could feel its evil looming into the chamber. My focus snapped over to the cradle, and I jumped out of bed and hurried over to my son. Gently picking him up, I wanted nothing more than to shelter him from the evil that was lurking just outside the window.


	20. Fear and Doubts

**April 2978**

A week had passed since the birth and still, Denethor did not see me fit to attend court. I suppose he wanted to make sure that the mother of his son and heir was receiving the best care possible. I did not mind being secluded away. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. I was able to spend quality time bonding with my son.

"Come and meet your cousin," I said to Voronda, who was standing uneasily at the end of the bed.

"It's a boy," she said, walking over to my side. "Oh, he is so small."

I chuckled. "He will grow up to be big and strong."

Voronda stroked Boromir's dark hair. "Do you think he will like me?"

"Of course he will like you," I replied.

"What about Apricot?" Voronda asked. "Will he like Apricot?"

I bit my bottom lip to restrain myself from laughing. "I am sure if you introduce Boromir to Apricot, they will get along."

Voronda nodded.

Boromir opened his eyes and stared at Voronda. "He's looking at me!" Voronda said, softly clapping her hands.

I grinned. "Would you like to hold him?"

Voronda frowned and shook her head. "No, thank you."

I sighed. "Did your Uncle take you to court on the day Boromir was presented to the people?"

Voronda nodded. "Yes. It was very crowded, but Uncle Denethor carried me so I wouldn't get trampled."

I raised my eyebrows. "Did he now?"

"Uncle Denethor was very happy," Voronda concluded.

It was true. Denethor had become far more pleasing. It had almost gone back to the early months of our marriage. I would be lying if I said I did not miss that time, for there is nothing worse than being in a loveless marriage. Not that Denethor ever stopped loving me. No. It was I, who lost feelings and decided to seek comfort elsewhere. I began to think about Agoron. I knew now that my son had been born, Agoron would make plans to visit Minas Tirith. But now, after seeing Denethor change back to the man he originally was, I was not so certain I was ready to see Agoron. Yes, I still had feelings of deep care for him, but he was not my husband, and I dared not to cavort with him. I was born, and raised as a Princess of Dol Amroth. Therefore, I knew better than to perform such an act. Still... just one visit could not hurt.

**...**

That evening, I had dinner in the nursery with Voronda. She was very pleased to be back in her old chamber, especially when I told her that all the dolls and toy houses were to be moved to her chamber now that a boy was residing in the nursery.

"When will he be able to talk?" Voronda asked as she sipped her juice.

"Not until he is much older," I replied gently. "He will not even be able to sit and crawl for a few months yet."

Voronda looked shocked. "It will take that long? Is he lazy?"

I giggled. "No, my dear. All infants begin their lives the same. Besides, I do not think your uncle will approve of Boromir being lazy."

"Why?" Voronda asked.

"Because, Boromir will be the Steward of Gondor one day," I replied.

"I thought Uncle Denethor was going to be the Steward after Grandfather Ecthelion," Voronda said, confused.

"Yes," I started, "and when your uncle can no longer rule, Boromir will take his place."

Voronda turned her gaze over to the cradle. "He better start talking."

I laughed. "All in good time."

"Auntie Finduilas," Voronda sang.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Why is Uncle Denethor not here?" she asked. "I thought he was Boromir's father."

"He is," I said a little too quickly. Voronda looked at me puzzled, as if I had guilt written all over my face. "I mean, yes, your uncle is Boromir's father. Can you not see the resemblance?"

Voronda stood up and walked over to the cradle. "No," she said as she peered over the cradle's edge. "Boromir has your dark hair, not Uncle Denethor's brown hair."

I nodded. "Yes, but he has Denethor's eyes."

"Yes," Voronda said. "I suppose I can see a little of Uncle Denethor, but not too much."

I smiled. "Just wait until he gets bigger. When my brother was born, he looked nothing like my father. But when he became several months older, the resemblance could not be mistaken."

"Really," Voronda said in a surprised tone. "How interesting. Does that mean that Boromir is going to change appearance?"

I laughed. "Not entirely. But I am positive that Boromir will grow to look more like his father."

"That is a shame," Voronda muttered. "I think you are better looking."

I laughed again. Valar! That child could say some interesting things! "I shall take that as a compliment."

"You should," Voronda said as she sat back down. "I think you are the prettiest lady I have ever seen!"

I smiled warmly. "Thank you. And I think you are very pretty also."

Voronda shook her head. "I'm not that pretty. Father told me so."

What? How could that _man_ say such harsh words to his own daughter! "Do not listen to your father," I said a little sternly. "He does not know what he is talking about."

"But he is a Lord," Voronda said. "He is supposed to be wise."

"Voronda, it does not matter about what title someone has. A title does not change someone's behaviour. Yes, your father is wise and very noble, but he does not understand every concept in this world. Your uncle knows far more about Gondorian politics than your father does."

"But my father knows more about fighting in a battle than Uncle Denethor does," Voronda said. "Father one told me that Uncle Denethor was a coward for not riding into battle and leading the armies of Gondor."

Sweet Eru! Was what Voronda telling me true? Were there rumours about my husband going around? "When did your father tell you that?" I asked as calmly as I could.

Voronda sat in thought for a moment. "I think it was before mama died. Yes, it was, because the Lord of Lossarnach and another Lord were visiting at the time, and they were in the same room as Father and I were."

"What were they talking about?" I asked.

"Well," Voronda started, "honestly, I wasn't in the room the entire time. Mama bought me there to say goodnight. But when I entered, a man was saying how the Steward's son is not fit to be a ruler of Gondor, because he has not experienced the hardship of his people firsthand. Then my father acknowledged me and told me that my uncle was a coward and I should be ashamed to call him family." Voronda slapped her hands on the table. "However... I think Father had been drinking that night."

I nodded. "Still, your father should never have spoken such words."

"The other Lords in the room were nodding in agreement," Voronda added. "I was only saying goodnight to my father."

"It is not your fault," I said gently. "Just promise me that you will not retell this story to your uncle or grandfather, for if they find out, your father and all the other lords in that room could be arrested."

"Why?" Voronda asked in awe.

I sighed. "It is just the way the law goes, Voronda. I do not make the rules."

"The Steward does," Voronda said stoutly.

I grimaced. "I am sorry, dear. I did not mean to upset you."

Voronda shrugged. "I am not mad. I know you are only telling the truth."

I nodded. I could hear Boromir squirming around in the cradle, making soft noises as if trying to grab someone's attention.

"What is wrong with him?" Voronda asked.

I stood up and made my way over to the cradle. "He has woken up. He just wants some attention."

"He always wants attention," Voronda said, folding her arms.

"He deserves such attention," a man's voice said.

Voronda and I turned to the doorway and saw Denethor standing there.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked, holding Boromir.

"I only just arrived," Denethor replied, walking into the nursery. "Voronda, I believe it is time you went to bed."

Voronda looked at me sadly, but nodded. "Goodnight, Uncle Denethor, and Auntie Finduilas."

"Goodnight, darling," I replied.

Once Voronda had closed the door, Denethor turned to me. "Are you hiding something?"

I frowned. "No. What makes you ask me such a thing?"

"I find it rather odd that you wanted to know how long I had been standing at the door," Denethor replied.

"Husband, do you really think I can talk privately with a child?" I said. "You startled me, that is all."

Denethor's face softened as he walked over to me. "How is he?"

"Well," I replied. "He still will not sleep long during the day or night. I fear the nurses are becoming stressed over the matter."

"He is very active then?" Denethor inquired.

"Yes, you could say that," I answered. "Boromir is very... curious about everything that surrounds him. In fact, he does not like many people holding him."

"He is cautious," Denethor said, stroking our son's dark hair. "Just as he should be." Denethor took Boromir out of my arms and placed him back into the cradle. "You need not spend so much time with Boromir. The nurses and servants can take good care of him without your presence."

"But I like spending time with my son," I protested. "Whenever I am not with him, I miss him."

Denethor sighed. "I know, and I am glad you have bonded with our son. But sooner rather than later, Boromir will be sent to Osgiliath to start his combat training."

"What!" I said, stepping away from Denethor. "How soon?"

"When he turns three," Denethor replied. "Captain Othon has moved his training camp from Minas Tirith to Osgiliath for more room."

I could not believe what I was hearing. "A three year old in a combat training camp! Are you mad?"

Denethor frowned at me. "You know, I have made plans for Boromir to become the leader of our armies. The sooner he starts his training, the better. Besides, he will not be the only three year old there. It is the minimal age to start training."

"You never did it!" I spat out.

"Excuse me?" Denethor said, stepping closer to me.

"Y-you never went into battle, or took part in combat training. Why does our son need to?" I said nervously. "Why can he not be like you? To be the image of his father."

"I did take part in combat training," Denethor said calmly, to my surprise. "My father had made the exact plans I have made for Boromir, for me. However, when my mother died, my father did not... look over my progress as well as he should have done. Over time, I became more focused in politics." Denethor sighed. "Changing paths was something I should never have done. I regret it, and so does my father." Denethor looked over to the cradle and smiled. "I will not make that same mistake with my son. I will make sure he grows into such a fine warrior and leader, that he will be remembered for an Age."

I gulped. I felt sorry for my husband's childhood, but the fact that he was trying to make up for it with our son's life was not appealing to me. "Denethor, I cannot... I will not support this decision of yours. I believe we should allow Boromir to choose his own path in life for himself."

Denethor shook his head. "As a father, I agree with your beliefs, but as a man who is about to inherit Stewardship, I respectfully disagree. Finduilas, I love you." He gently held my hands, "and I know that you share that love, but in this marriage, you need to trust me."

I lowered my eyes. "I do trust you. I just… do not like the idea of being separated from my son when he will still only be a little boy."

"You will still be able to see him," Denethor said. "There are monthly breaks in the training programs."

"So I will only be able to see him once a month?" I asked. "That still does not sound appealing to me."

"Then, the only way I can see this situation easing your mind, is that you stop spending all your time with Boromir," Denethor said gently. "It may sound cruel, but it may help you in the near future. Now come, you need rest."

Before I could even protest, Denethor was escorting me out of the nursery to our chamber.

I did not like this at all. I did not care what Denethor said, I would not be separated from my child. If I had to, I would move to Osgiliath while Boromir completed his combat training. I knew such a move would cause a great argument between Denethor and me.

Why did my life have to be so difficult?


	21. The Horrible Waiting Game

**July 2978**

I could not believe how fast Boromir grew! By three months old, I found him increasingly hard to carry. His dark hair grew thicker, and he was marvelled at for his size. Boromir was not an overweight babe - no – he was just growing quickly. Of course, Boromir's quick growth and constant demand for food had Denethor beaming with pride.

"_He shall grow to be a mighty man!" _Denethor would exclaim.

Half of me was proud to have such a strong, healthy son, but another part of me wished that he was smaller and more subtle.

Not only was Boromir large for his age, he was also very noisy. If he was not crying; demanding food, he would be screaming for attention, or acting fussy over who was holding him or giving him attention. By the end of each day, I was exhausted.

Voronda had had enough of her cousin. She started avoiding the nursery and making up excuses as to why she could not dine with me.

"Why does he have to be so noisy?" Voronda asked as she and I sat in the back courtyard of the kitchens.

"He is a babe," I replied, sitting back against the wall. "Your cousin is new to this world; therefore he does not understand his place yet."

Voronda frowned and placed Apricot on her lap. "I still do not like him very much."

Her words made my heart sink. "I am sorry, dear. I am sorry you feel that way. I, myself do wish that he would settle down more often, but your uncle is very proud to have such an active son and heir." A son and heir, I thought. Lord Angbor's new wife had delivered a healthy boy only two weeks earlier. They named him Doronor.

"I thought Uncle Denethor liked silence?" Voronda asked, drawing my attention back to her.

Voronda was right; Denethor did enjoy the peace of serenity. However, he had almost demanded me to give him a strong male heir, and now I have. No matter what people say about my son, I shall be proud of myself for achieving what I was bought to Minas Tirith to do.

"Auntie Finduilas," Voronda sang. "There is a man over there!"

I turned in the direction in which Voronda was pointing. Behind the courtyard wall, there was a sheepish-looking man hovering under a tree. At once, my eyes widened, for I knew he was the pageboy who worked for Agoron. What in the name of Valar, was he doing here?

I quickly stood up and walked out of the courtyard. I looked down each direction of the narrow lane. I dared not proceed if there was sight of any other person. The path was clear, and I scurried down, holding onto the railing that stopped me from falling down the side of the mountain.

"Lord Agoron sent me here," the boy said in a harsh whisper.

"You should know that you are not meant to come up to the citadel!" I whispered fiercely. "How did you get passed the guards?"

"I came through the back way via the sixth level, my lady," he replied. "The way that the servants use." The boy gave a shrug. "I suppose the guards thought me to be another servant by the way I am dressed."

I grimly smiled. "What does Lord Agoron want?"

"He has sent you a letter, my lady." The boy handed me a letter, and I quickly tucked it into the pocket of my cloak.

"You should go... right now."

The boy nodded and looked about him. "You know where to find me?"

I nodded vigorously. "Leave, now!"

My heart was pounding as I made my way back to the courtyard. However, I stopped halfway down the lane and crouched against the stone wall of the courtyard. Taking a deep breath, I took the letter out and opened it.

_My beautiful, dearest Finduilas,_

_How is your health? I am most please that you have found joy in the birth of your son, Boromir. Imrahil has told me that it is believed that Boromir shall make a mighty Steward when his time comes. I am also aware that the birth of your son has bought great happiness to the Lord Denethor. _

_Last year, you told me that you wished to see me. Is this still so? _

_You know that I will not force you into doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you wish to see me, I am already here in Minas Tirith. I am staying with a friend on the fourth level. His name is Fardaer. He is a soldier stationed on the eastern side of the wall. He is not of great importance, so I thought his home would be a good place for us to meet. _

_If you do wish to see me, I will be staying at his home all day and night for the next five days. I wish to keep a low profile in case someone recognises me. To get to Fardaer's house, walk down to the fourth level and turn right into the sixth lane. Continue down that lane until you come to across a shop that makes saddles. There, you will see another lane turning left down a narrow alleyway. At the end of that alley, you will find two doors. Fardaer's front door is on the left. His father owns the saddle shop, and both men are very friendly. I have not told either of them of my reasons of being in Minas Tirith. If you find enough trust for them, I shall tell them. _

_If you do not wish to see me, reply to this letter and send it to my servant. I shall then leave for Dol Amroth. _

_With all my love, _

_Lord Agoron,_

"What are you doing?"

I gasped and snapped my head up to see Voronda staring down at me.

"N-nothing," I stuttered. I folded the letter away into my cloak and stood up. "Just reading."

"Out here in this lane?" Voronda asked, looking about her.

"There is nothing wrong with that," I said, straightening my dress. "Come; let us go back to the palace."

Valar! What was I going to do? Agoron was here, in Minas Tirith, right now! He was within walking distance from where I was. Oh, I wanted so much to run down to him and just see his face. My excitement continued to grow as my heart continued to beat rapidly. There was no chance I was going to let my only opportunity to see Agoron again slip away from me. I was going to see him... that very night!

I could feel my face go pale as I thought of an excuse to leave the citadel. That was going to be quite difficult. Now that I had given birth, I was once again sharing a bed with Denethor. The only way I could see myself being able to leave the citadel without any valid reason, was to sneak out in the dead of the night, taking the servants exit out of the citadel. Oh, but so many things could go wrong! What if Denethor woke up to find me not at his side? What if the guards spotted me? So many things could easily go wrong, but I had to take the chance. I would go tonight and see how far I could go without being spotted. If, by some miraculous chance, I was able to reach Fardaer's house, I would dare not stay long. After tonight, I would have to find another time during the day to see him. If I were not so excited, I would wait until the next day. I knew I would not be able to sleep tonight.

**...**

In the evening, after dinner, I gave Boromir a long cuddle and kissed him goodnight. He smiled at me, and began to suck his thumb once I put him into his cradle. My son really was a handsome little boy. I smiled the whole way to my chamber. I could not wait until Boromir grew up more and began to play with his toys.

When I entered the chamber, Denethor was already there, sitting at the table. I walked casually over to my wardrobe and pulled the dressing screen across. I really did not feel like putting a nightgown on. If I was to roam the streets of Minas Tirith, wearing my night clothes would be highly inappropriate. Still, at that time, I did not have much choice in the matter. I went through all my nightgowns and finally found one that could pass as a dress. It was made out of silk, with laces tying up at the back. Since I had dismissed my handmaiden earlier in the nursery, I fussed over trying to tie up the laces. I froze when I felt two large hands taking the laces. I knew it was Denethor, but what startled me was that he did not continue to lace up my nightdress.

"Are you going to assist me?" I asked.

I heard him sigh deeply and felt him tightly lacing up my nightdress. When he was done, I turned around and he pulled me close to him. He had his hand caressing my cheek, so I closed my eyes and imagined Agoron. I knew I should not have done so, but Agoron was the only man on my mind that night. I felt Denethor kiss my lips, but I did not move. I could not satisfy my husband that night. I knew what he wanted, but I did not want to proceed in intercourse with him. Not tonight. No. I had to stay focused.

"I am tired," I finally managed to say. "Boromir keeps me so busy."

Denethor let his hands drop to his side. "As much as I love our son, you must not spend all your time and energy with him."

I glared at my husband. "Why? What else should I spend my energy on?" Before I could let him answer, I walked over to my side of the bed. "Like I said, I am very tired and I do not wish to remain awake much longer. Perhaps we could discuss this more in the morning?"

Denethor nodded. "Then tomorrow we shall talk."

I blew out my candle and rolled onto my side, facing the wall. My nerves started to rise. The time to sneak out was becoming very close. Part of me wanted to leap out of bed, grab my cloak, and run down to see Agoron. Unfortunately, that fantasy died away when I felt Denethor wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. I mentally cursed him. I should have known that Denethor would hold me that night, for he always does. Clearly, my excitement was not allowing my mind to think properly. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. I kept them shut for several minutes and wondered how long it would take for Denethor to fall asleep. I honestly had no idea if he slept in a deep, fitful sleep, or if he slept lightly and was aware of his surroundings, even in the deep hours of the night. This thought frightened me. What if I managed to leave the citadel, only to have Denethor follow me, leading him straight to Agoron? How would I ever be able to explain Agoron's presence to him?

Closing my eyes tighter, I prayed that I would be able to leave this chamber without any knowledge of my husband. All I wanted to do was to see Agoron.

Please, Valar, give me that chance!

**...**

_I could not sleep. I would not! No, not after everything I had been through. The dreams sill continued to haunt me, even in the lightness of day. _

_My sons... my sweet, little innocent boys. Were they fated to such images as the ones in my dreams?_

_Agoron... Valar! If only I could apologise... if only I could see him one last time. _


	22. A Reunion with Agoron

I must have had the Valar on my side that night, for soon after Denethor fell asleep, he rolled over. Feeling released, I could not stop grinning. I tiptoed over to my dresser and wrapped my dark blue coat around my nightgown. As I observed myself in the mirror, I began to wonder if I was doing was the right thing. Of course I should not be sneaking out of the citadel to see a man! Agoron, to me was not just any man. He and I went back many years, and even though I was married to Denethor, my heart truly belonged to Agoron.

I walked across the room, hoping I would not trip on anything. As I made it to the door, I turned to see if Denethor was watching me. Thankfully, he seemed to be in a deep sleep. I opened the door and carefully slid out into the corridor. Looking in both directions, I placed my hood over my head and made my way down the dimly lit corridor. I was fortunate enough to make it to the servants' quarters without seeing one person. I actually found this very odd. Usually in the late hours of the night, the servants would still be running around, preparing for the oncoming day. Maybe I had snuck out at a later hour than I had first thought.

I softly ran down the flight of steps that let me into the kitchen. Annoyingly, the two large kitchen doors were securely locked. I restrained myself from banging my fist on the doors out of frustration. I turned to my left and saw another door, but where it led, I did not know. I had come this far, so I had nothing to lose. I opened the door as far as I needed and squeezed through. There were no candles lit, and the only light in the room shone from the moonlight seeping in through the high windows. I stood, frozen on the spot when I realised that I was standing in the servants' sleeping hall.

Oh Valar...

I took a deep breath and looked around to see if there was another exit. To my happiness there was. On the same side of the hall, there was a small, wooden door only several meters away. Without checking to see if anyone had spotted me, I tiptoed over and opened the door. Closing it shut behind me, I turned around and saw that I was in the kitchen. I rested my head against the door and sighed with relief. I easily exited the kitchen and into the back courtyard. From there, I scurried down the narrow lane and past the big tree. I went down a small flight of white stone stairs that led me onto a stone platform. I stopped there in awe. In the distance, I could see the Anduin River glimmering from the moon and starlight. It was utterly breathtaking. How was it, that the servants' walkway gave a better view of the Anduin River than my own chamber? This was outrageous! Yet, it did not surprise me, for it seemed I never got my own way here.

I sighed and continued down a longer flight of steps. I figured these stairs led me down to the sixth level. I began to grow concerned when I saw two guards at the end of the stairs. Was I that much of a fool to think that the stairs would not be guarded? I hung my hood lower over my face and bravely walked down the last few steps. The guards paid no attention to me, but I knew getting back in would be far trickier.

For the rest of the journey, the streets were silent and bare. I hated it! There was no sound of the rushing ocean, nor the whooshing of a fast sea breeze. The only noise I could make out was the sound of my heart beating fast.

Fardaer's front door was easy enough to find, but I could tell why Agoron wished to meet there, for it was nestled deep into the city, away from the busy streets. I knocked loudly four times and waited. From within, I could hear heavy footsteps approaching.

"What do you want?" an angry man said as he opened the door.

I bit my bottom lip, feeling very nervous. "I-I... is Lord Agoron present?"

The man towered over me. He was largely built with long, curly black hair. "Agoron! There's a woman here to see you!" He turned back towards me, taking in my appearance bit by bit. "She seems important too!"

"Are you Sir Fardaer?" I asked quietly.

The man chuckled. "Yes."

"Finduilas."

I felt my heart skip a beat as I looked over Fardaer's shoulder and saw Agoron standing there. "Agoron," I squealed. Valar! Why did my voice have to fail at that moment?

"Finduilas," Fardaer said, staring down at me. "Aren't you Lord Denethor's wife?"

My eyes filled with fear. "Y-yes."

"It is all right, Fardaer," Agoron said. "She is an old friend of mine from Dol Amroth."

Fardaer stepped aside, but did not take his eyes off me. "I hope you do not bring trouble to my father's home," he said sternly.

"Lord Denethor does not... appreciate me," Agoron said, grimly smiling.

Fardaer laughed. "What's not to like about you?"

Agoron shrugged. "Please, I shall show Finduilas to your sitting room."

Fardaer shut to front door and mumbled something to himself as he walked off in the opposite direction.

As Agoron shut the sitting room door, he pulled me into his arms. Valar! I had completely forgotten how wonderful his scent was! I felt dizzy with joy. "Oh, Agoron," I whispered. "I have missed you."

I felt tears swelling in my eyes.

"Hush now," Agoron whispered. "Do not weep." He wiped my tears away with his thumb. "You look as beautiful as ever!"

I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck. "You still know how to make me smile."

Agoron grinned. "You've changed, though." He let go of me and I stepped out of his arms. "You seem more drained."

I frowned.

"Your liveliness seems to have diminished," Agoron continued. "You look as if you no longer know the meaning of fun!"

I wearily smiled. "My son gives me enthusiasm, and so does my husband's niece, Voronda."

Agoron nodded. "I congratulate you on the birth of your son."

I grinned. "Thank you. I am glad I birthed a boy. I would hate to go through all that pain again."

"I thought you wanted many children?" Agoron said as he sat down and pulled me down to sit beside him.

I sighed. "Situations are different now. Perhaps if I married you, I would be glad to have a bunch of children. Sadly, however, my marriage to Denethor has somewhat dwindled recently. Ever since we arrived back from Pelargir, he has been different. He no longer shows me compassion or affection as he used to do. During my pregnancy, I often thought that he doubted my condition. The only joy he seems to show with me is when we speak of our son, Boromir."

Agoron nodded and held my hand. "Imrahil tells me that Lord Denethor is always a cold man."

I chuckled. "Yes, Denethor is a cold man to those who do not know him properly. Sadly, I just think that is how he naturally is. I do believe there is a warmer side to him. I saw it in our early months of marriage." I smiled dreamily. "Those were the days where I believed my marriage would have had a happy ending, but now, I see that my marriage's ending will be anything but happy."

"Why do you think he has changed?" Agoron asked gently.

I shrugged and sat back in the chair. "I honestly do not have a clue. Denethor is a hard man to read. I do see the warmness is his eyes when he looks at or holds Boromir. I do know that there is some bliss left within him, and it wants to be set free. I do wish that he would let his emotions run loose. It would make everyone's life far easier."

Agoron nodded. "Well, I do believe if you try hard enough, Denethor will let his emotions run loose."

I looked at Agoron funnily. "You wish to help my marital problems?"

Agoron grinned. "By listening to what you have said, I do believe that a happier marriage would make _you_ happy once more. Finduilas, I _want_ to see you happy."

"Oh, Agoron," I whispered, moving into his arms. He caressed his hand over my cheek.

"I should not kiss you," he said quietly. "I do not wish to dishonour you."

I painfully closed my eyes. He was right. I did not wish for my honour to be ruined, but who else would find out? "Kiss me," I whispered. "A kiss is a kiss."

Agoron sighed heavily and continued to gaze into my eyes. "I still love you."

"As I love you," I replied.

Agoron leaned closer to me and kissed my cheek. "I will have to think about this. You are the future Stewardess of Gondor. I do not wish for a scandal to be attached to your name."

"What scandal?" I asked in awe. "There is nobody else here!"

Agoron sighed again and stood up. "I know little of Minas Tirith, but I do know how the lords of the court play. They have spies, as does the enemy. Your husband has spies – possibly some of the best. You cannot always risk coming to see me." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Now that you are here, I am beginning to doubt this arrangement. Sooner or later our secret will be discovered."

Agoron was right. Our secret meetings would never last forever. "After everything you and I have done together... after all that we have meant to each other, you are willing to give it all up?"

"If it is what's best for you, then yes," Agoron answered. He grabbed my hands and kissed each of them. "You are and always will be the most important person in my life. If anything were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself."

I lowered my eyes. "Please, do not send me back to the citadel without knowing that I can see you again." I looked back up with him – my eyes were filled with pain. "I have few female friends. Most I cannot talk to about private matters anymore, because I know they will tell others. The women of this court always gossip. The closest thing I have to a friend is a small girl, Voronda. Yet she is too small to carry my burdens. I have nothing here, save for my son."

Agoron embraced me tightly. "You have Lord Denethor, also."

I stepped out of his embrace with disgust. "Your love for me does not even _compare_ to the love that Lord Denethor gives me. He tells me that he loves me deeply, but he never shows it anymore! In order for a wife to feel loved, her husband needs to show it and prove it. He does neither of them anymore. He no longer buys me gifts, or walks with me in the evenings. He never dines with me in the nursery or in our chamber." I sighed heavily. "I loved him once. I admit it. He did bring me great joy, but no longer. That joy has been replaced with loneliness. Some days, I just wish he would sit with me in the gardens and wrap his arms around me. Despite my stubbornness towards him now, I do like feeling close to him. After all, he is the father of my child!" I threw my hands up in the air. "Denethor frustrates me nowadays."

"Finduilas, calm down," Agoron said soothingly. "Here." He stooped over me, kissing me lightly on the lips. "If this is the only way to calm you, then I shall have to kiss you."

I stood in shock for a moment. He had kissed me! It was not as romantic as the kisses from our previous relationship, but still! "I should get angry more often in your presence," I breathed.

Agoron chuckled. "Please, I think it is time for you to leave." Agoron opened the sitting room door. "I would be more than happy to see you again in two days time. Tomorrow, I plan on riding out to Osgiliath to check on my ship, so I will not be in Minas Tirith all day."

I sighed. "I wish I did not have to go."

Agoron smiled sadly. "I wish that also, but I also wish for you to not be deemed missing from the citadel!"

I chuckled at his remark. "Very well. Tell Sir Fardaer that I appreciate his patience."

"I shall," Agoron said. As he led me to the front door, he kissed my hand. "Until two days time."

I bowed my head in acknowledgement. "I cannot wait."

I practically ran up to the sixth level. As I made it to the servants' entrance, I found myself blessed to see that the guards had fallen asleep. That night was my lucky night! I smiled the whole way up the stairs and to my chamber.

I quietly opened the door and peeked inside. My nerves calmed when I saw Denethor sleeping soundly.

I had made it!


	23. A Sudden Death

I woke up the next morning smiling. I was so happy from meeting Agoron last night. Valar, I felt so blessed! Now that Agoron was within walking distance from the citadel, I felt as if my life was complete. I sighed and rolled over. Denethor was looking at me with a face of wonder.

"What?" I asked, trying to hide my smile.

"You seem cheerful this morning," Denethor said.

I sat up and stretched. "I had a wonderful dream. That is all."

"What was it about?" he asked curiously.

I got out of bed and placed my starry blue mantle around my shoulders. "I was dreaming that I was back in Dol Amroth – back by the seaside."

I did not face Denethor to see his reaction. "Do you wish to return to Dol Amroth?" he asked.

I turned around quickly with my face lit up. "Yes I do."

"Well, you cannot," he said, getting out of bed.

His words made my heart break. "W-why?" I stumbled. "Why are you being so cruel?"

Denethor glared at me. "Cruel?" he repeated. "Why can you not see that I am protecting you?"

I crossed my arms. "I _want_ to go back to Dol Amroth. I miss my family and the sea." My voice had trailed off at the last part of my proclamation, but I did not care.

"Your family is here," I heard Denethor say. "Boromir and I are your family now. Do you not love us?"

I gulped and felt tears filling my eyes. "I do love you both. How could you doubt that? But I cannot just forget the people who raised me and spent all their lives with me until I came here. You cannot keep me from my father, brother and sister forever, Denethor."

"I am not keeping them from you," Denethor said quietly. He came over and kissed me lightly. "If you so dearly wish to see them, then write to your father and request him to visit Minas Tirith with your siblings."

"And what about my longing for the sea? I highly doubt that the sea will rise and sweep across the plains of Gondor to Minas Tirith," I said curtly.

Denethor chuckled. "That, my dear, is something you are going to have to learn to live without. You have lived without the sight and smell of the ocean for all these years so far. I cannot see why you could not live without it for the remainder of your years."

Before I could reply, there was a rapid knock at the door. "What?" Denethor commanded with annoyance.

The messenger spoke through the door. "I have come here in great haste to tell you that the Lady Voronda has fallen dangerously ill."

Oh no! I felt energy drain away. Without thinking, I pushed my way past Denethor and out of the chamber, still dressed in my nightclothes. I ran to Voronda's chamber, only to be ushered to the other side of the room.

"Please, my lady," the physician said, "the child has a contagious illness. We cannot risk it spreading."

This time, I let my tears fall down my cheek. "What is wrong with her?" I asked, wiping my tears away.

"We are not certain," the physician replied hastily. "She was complaining of a headache late yesterday afternoon, and then by midnight she was throwing up. We thought it only to be a fever, but now her nurse and tutor have caught the illness and died."

"What?" I whispered. "They are both dead?"

"Yes," the physician answered. "Please, for your sake, you should leave this chamber."

I did not want to go, but I was gently tugged away. Why did this have to be so? All my life in Dol Amroth I was told – If something wonderful happens in a certain part of your life, then another part will quickly fall apart. Perhaps this was what was happening to me. I had Agoron back in my life, and perhaps the Valar found me to be greed, or maybe this was punishment for going behind my husband's back.

"No, NO," I said to myself as I paced in front of Voronda chamber door. "This is _not _my fault. I have done nothing to cause Voronda's ill health." Maybe her nurse or tutor accidently passed the illness over to her. But where did it come from? It was not common for a deadly illness to be spreading through the citadel. Valar! My thoughts turned to Boromir. "No!" I said to myself again. Boromir had not been in contact with any of the victims. Not even Voronda. Surely he could not catch it.

Hours went by and still, I sat out the front of Voronda's chamber. Nobody went in, and very few people came out. Denethor had come by and asked me to join him for lunch. I could not stomach anything at that point. My thoughts were only of Voronda and her wellbeing. Denethor had also told me that Boromir was in good health, but Ecthelion had caught the illness and now the entire citadel has been vacated to stop the spread of this illness.

While I sat there, another physician came and made sure I was not experiencing any symptoms. Fortunately, I was in good health. My spirits were not kept high, for at five o'clock that afternoon, Voronda had passed away.

I cried. Oh Valar, did I cry! Two guards had to escort me back to my chamber, where I collapsed onto the bed and cried into my pillow. Her death made my heart break. No more was I ever going to be able to hear her cheery little voice, or her serious adult tone. What hurt me the most was that I had not been at her side. She must have felt so alone with all those strangers moving around her. I know she did not like being in the company of strangers for long periods. Nobody had told me if she was able to talk, or if she was unconscious. What were her last thoughts? Was she thinking that I had abandoned her to this illness?

Denethor came into our chamber after dinner had been served. He had told me that he was the only person present at the table since his father was indisposed. My husband comforted me as best as he could. His comfort started as a pat on the shoulder, but that only made me cry harder. Eventually, he had his arms wrapped around me, cradling me for comfort. I continued to cry into his tunic, making it very wet. I did not care. I just wanted my sweet little Voronda back.

"A funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon," Denethor said once I had managed to stop my tears flowing.

I nodded, but said nothing.

"My father will not be able to attend," he continued. "His health is still poor, but the physicians believe he will make it through with his heart still beating."

Oh, that remark did not comfort me at all. Did he think Voronda weak for dying? She was only a child!

"My father and I have decided to bury Voronda in the Steward's tombs," he said. "Will you be able to walk the Silent Streets tomorrow?"

I shook my head. "May I be excused from the funeral? I wish to pay my respects in private, away from the court."

"Of course," he said soothingly. "I would have it no other way."

"I wish only for Boromir's comfort tomorrow," I whispered. "Is he still well?"

"Our son is as strong as ever," Denethor said proudly. "He is a good lad."

I managed to get some sleep that night, but my dreams were dark and showed me nothing but Voronda's sad little face. I woke several times through the night with fresh tears staining my pillow. Now that someone so close to me was able to die within the walls of the citadel, it made me more frightened of Minas Tirith and the Land of Shadow across the river. I wanted to be home in my father's arms. I missed him and my brother and sister. I wanted their comfort more than ever.

My life in Minas Tirith was only getting worse.

**...**

During the funeral the next morning, I told the guards that I wished the take Boromir for a walk away from the citadel. It interested me that the illness had not spread to the lower levels, but my main thoughts were on Agoron. I know I must have been selfish and stupid to have gone and seen him. I promised to the see him that day, and I needed to get away from the citadel and the funeral service.

Agoron greeted me at Fardaer's front door. "I have heard," he said grimly. "Finduilas, I am so sorry."

I felt tears filling my eyes again. "I cannot stop crying."

Agoron nodded in sympathy. "The pain must be very great. Come, let us sit, and rest."

I switched Boromir to my other side to carry – he was a very heavy boy.

"This must be Boromir," Agoron said and tickled my son under the chin. "He looks like you."

I smiled for the first time in a day. "I think I would have died with grief if the illness had taken Boromir also."

"Do not speak of it," Agoron said quietly, but sternly. "Do not fill your mind with such negative thoughts. It will make your pain pass no easier."

I smiled again - Agoron always made me feel better. I placed Boromir on the couch and put cushions around him to stop him from falling over. "The funeral is today," I said to Agoron, who was sitting next to me. "I could not bear to go."

Agoron nodded again. "That is understandable. From what I have heard, you and Voronda were very close."

I sighed deeply. "We were. I considered her a daughter."

"Her mother has died also?" Agoron queried.

I nodded.

"Then let it ease your pain to know that Voronda is safe in her mother's arms now," he said.

I looked at him in wonder. "Tatiel, her mother, she will be both saddened and relieved to see her daughter again. I feel sorry for both of them. They have had a hard life."

"Their pain has passed now," Agoron said.

I lowered my eyes. "I know you are right, but it will take some time for me to fully recover from my grief."

Agoron pulled me close and kissed me soundly. "I shall pray for Voronda."

I smiled weakly at him. "Thank you for your kindness. You are the most considerate man I have ever met."

Agoron grinned. "You have always been biased."

"It is the truth," I whispered. "I wish I could have been your wife. My life with you would have been far more pleasant."

Agoron placed his finger on my lips. "Hush. Do not speak such words. What is done is done. We all must live with it, including Voronda's death."

Boromir let out a wail – he never liked being ignored. I picked him up and placed him on my lap. "He is a fussy boy."

Agoron chuckled. "He does not like me."

I looked down at Boromir to see him frowning at Agoron. "He frowns at everything," I said. "Do not take it personally. Denethor likes to think that it is out of caution."

Agoron shrugged. "Maybe it is. I think it is time that you should depart. The funeral should not be going on for much longer, and Lord Denethor may send out some men in search of you."

I nodded and stood up. "When can I see you again?"

Agoron hesitated. "That I am not certain of. I must leave port tomorrow morning for Pelargir. There is some business that I must attend to."

"No!" I said in protest. "No, you cannot leave me. Not at this hour!"

"Finduilas," he said gently. "Please, if I could, I would stay here for the rest of my life, just to be close to you. But there are problems arising in the south that need my attention."

I nodded and sniffed. "Very well. I know you are stuck to your duties, as am I."

Agoron kissed my cheek and ruffled Boromir hair. "I will return. I promise."

**...**

Agoron left the next morning. I watched his ship leave port from one of the windows in the citadel. I wished so dearly to be with him, sailing towards the sea. But no, my place was here. The illness had now passed and Ecthelion had survived. Sadly, though, he remained bedridden.

I had still not visited Voronda's grave. I told Denethor that I would not pay my respects until I had the courage to do so without crying all over the grave. He took pity on me and allowed my space to mourn. It took me three weeks before I would even go into Voronda's chamber. When I entered, all her belongings had dust starting to settle on them. Personally, I did not want to touch anything and leave it all in remembrance of her. Denethor had told me that Ecthelion wanted the chamber cleaned out for any future children or guests. I found this unfair and cruel. I did not like the idea of another person sleeping in Voronda's bed, or sitting at her window. It was not right.

Bit by bit, I gathered all her books, instruments, toys and clothes, and placed them into a large box that was to be stored away. As I went through her clothes, I smelt each one and folded them gently. I found the dress that the seamstress had made for her when she first came to stay with me. I decided to keep that dress with my belongings, along with the doll that she favoured above all her toys.

Finally, her chamber was emptied and new linen was placed on the bed. I took one last look at the chamber before closing the door, vowing never to enter again.


	24. Thoughts of a Princess

**2979**

It took me several months before I was able to bear seeing Voronda's grave. After the New Year celebrations, I walked, dressed in black, down the Silent Street. I had a bunch of white flowers in my trembling hands. I was ready to pay my respects.

Her grave was located at the very back of the Steward's cemetery, and I found her nestled between her late aunt – Denethor's first sister to die, and her grandmother – Denethor's mother. I found that touching, for she was in the company of her family still. I placed the flowers on top of her stone grave and kissed the palm of my hand, placing it on her engraved name.

"Why do I still feel that your sudden death was my fault?" I said softly. I sat down in front of the grave and hugged my knees. "Why did you have to be taken from me? You had such great potential – you would have grown to be a beautiful young lady of the court. It is not fair!"

I wiped my eyes and stood up. "I love you Voronda, and I always will."

I really did not want to leave, but I knew in time, Denethor would send out men to look for me. I know he was only concerned, but at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be left alone in my grief.

I took my time walking back to the citadel. It was a very overcast day and the sun dared not show itself to me. The Anduin River did not sparkle in the distance, and the cold wind of winter was still sharp. I wrapped my cloak tighter around me and trudged through the snow. To me, winter was the worst season in Minas Tirith. The snow would start to fall just before midwinter, and it would cause heavy blankets of white snow to engulf the streets, causing havoc for the people. The northern winds would bring at least one severe snowstorm that would almost completely cover the white city. Maybe that was an over exaggeration on my behalf, for it never snowed in Dol Amroth. I hated the cold. I really did! I found snow to be unbearable. Denethor would take Boromir out into one of the courtyards to play in the snow, but he learned that our son's attitude for snow was just like mine. He hated it. The first time he sat in the snow, he screamed as if someone was murdering him. I was rather alarmed at the time, but Denethor assured me everything was all right.

**...**

On April fifteenth, in the middle of spring, my darling boy turned one year. For the first time in months, I was happy. Not only was he growing up far quicker than I had first thought, but he was walking on his own. I loved it! I would place him at one side of the nursery, and then I would hurry over to the other side and open my arms for him. He enjoyed this game. He would scream with excitement and walked as quickly as he could into my arms. Not only was he growing, but he was changing too. His dark hair was becoming slightly lighter, and his sea-grey eyes were bigger and more curious. He could even speak a few words! Denethor had taught him 'ada' and he had learned 'mama' and 'story' on his own. However, he was only a chatty boy when he was around me. With Denethor, he was quiet and serious, sometimes even shy. But with me, he would light up and speak words in his own little language. I was very glad he had not caught a cold through the winter, for I could not risk losing my child. I know it was common for a child to die in their infant stages, but Boromir was not any infant. He was Denethor's heir and his pride and joy. As much as I enjoyed being a mother, I did not think I could endure childbirth again. I had not told Denethor that, and he began to see that I was not too fond of him having me during the nights. He did not ask any questions, and I did not give him any reasons. Denethor would never force me, but I did show him affection – I am his wife after all.

Boromir's birthday celebration was not large. In fact, it was only Denethor and I, Ecthelion and half the court honouring my son's survival through infanthood by having a feast. I knew Boromir's health would always be a concern for me. My mother used to tell me that no child is safe until he or she has celebrated its coming of age ceremony. Then, as a mother, you would worry and fret over your son if he has joined the army, or you would cling on to your daughter and shed tears as she is married off to a man you hardly know.

I always thought my mother over exaggerated in her little speech, but now I fully understand what she means. For the rest of my years, I would never stop worrying for Boromir, especially if he is to be the commander of Gondor's forces. Such a thought made a chill run down my spine.

That night, after the small feast, I rocked Boromir to sleep in front of the large fireplace in the nursery. He was sucking his thumb carelessly as his eyes drooped. I kissed his forehead and placed him in the cradle.

"Bless you, sweet child," I whispered to him, before giving him one last kiss on the cheek. I tucked the blankets around him and closed the cot's curtains. In the distance, I heard Mordor rumbling. Valar! How I hated it! Every time I heard or saw Mordor, it would remind me that my precious little boy would have to grow up and face its wrath, and I knew it would be under my husband's orders. I knew Denethor loved his son dearly and took joy in spending time with him, but it did not cover the fact that I knew in his study, Denethor was planning our son's future. He told me that I should be proud to have a son who will be the defender of our people, but as a mother, I see myself in the future, sitting at a window that faces east and bitting my nails, watching my son lead forces out to face the enemy. It would drive me mad with worry! This is not what I wanted, Valar, this is not what I wanted for my son!

I became so concerned for the future of my son, and my future, that I decided to write a journal about my life in Minas Tirith. It was not going to end up as some silly journal a maiden of the court would write. No! No, my journal was going to be of sophistication and words of truth about how I really felt in my current situation as wife to Lord Denethor. It was at that moment, when Boromir turned one, that when I died, my son would be able to read this memoir and discover the truth about my marriage to his father and the friendship with Agoron that I hold dearly.

**...**

It was in late September when I heard the tragic news of my sister's death. At first, I thought it was my father making a rude joke of it. Ivriniel could not be dead! Sadly, however, his words were true. My beautiful, most loved sister had died.

I suppose I should have expected her death. Ivriniel had not been healthy in the past years after her beloved husband, Lord Losdir, had died in service to our father. After his death, Ivriniel went through a serious period of depression and would not come out of her chamber. When she finally presented herself to the court, she refused to wear anything except the colour black, and that is how it has been for the past four years. I had wished and prayed for her wellbeing. I hoped that she would one day see the light of life again. I saw how happy she had been with Lord Losdir – it was a marriage united by their love and deep devotion to one another. Oh, how I envied Ivriniel for being able to marry for love. My love for Agoron was far more complex as he was from a family less important than Lord Losdir was. Still, I suppose I should consider myself lucky that I am not deeply in love with Denethor. I know my husband would never ride out to battle, thus he would never die in the field. I also know that I should consider myself lucky to be married to a man deeply interested in lore. Still, after all these years, I cannot accept him. I cannot accept the idea of the Steward of Gondor's heir not being skilled in leading men. Yes, he has skills in leading people through a time of peace, for it has been nothing but peace in Gondor for several decades. Then it hit me hard. Boromir was to be everything Denethor was and is not.

Sometimes I wonder if I am nothing more than a foolish woman who has led a life of leisure by the sea. A woman who had everything she needed and a wonderful brother and sister. My life in Minas Tirith has been nothing but a hard courtship with a man twice my age. Am I that selfish? Should I be punished for my deep thoughts? One thing I have learned about myself is that I am not as strong a woman as I had first thought. Yes, I have survived the long journey to Minas Tirith, the sweating illness, and childbirth. Emotionally, I am weak. I am a weak woman.

**...**

I dress in my mourning stage for my late sister. A letter of request comes from my father, asking for my attendance at Ivriniel's funeral in Dol Amroth. I wanted to go. Valar, I needed to go. I had to say what I needed to at the funeral, and kiss my sister's tomb and pay my respects. I needed to apologise for leaving her behind when I had to marry Denethor. I needed her silent forgiveness for hardly writing to her, because I was holding onto the idea of being able to visit her in Dol Amroth. I have missed so much! Maybe if I had been with her, at her side, she might not have even died. I felt the exact same way when Voronda died. I blamed myself. I should have done more!

Of course, not to my surprise, Denethor respectfully declines my father's invitation. Instead, he sent his and my condolences with a purse of gold. I was shaking with fury at his actions. A purse of gold! Was that supposed to make up for my absence at my own sister's funeral! I want to yell at him, I was to scream and hit him! But I know it would do no good. This time, I remained silent as I sat in his office, dressed all in black. I do not make eye contact with him; I keep my eyes focused on the edge of the desk. I do not cry – I do nothing. When Denethor tells me how sorry he is for her death again, I nod and he allows me to be excused. As I walk down the corridor, I wonder what I should do next. I am still not able to see Lord Ecthelion. He is still immensely weak, having caught another illness. This time, he has been bedridden for two weeks. I fear for him. I fear if he dies that nothing will be the same again. I am not sure why, but I am afraid of my husband becoming the Steward of Gondor. I have a bad feeling about his reign of power. Maybe not right away, but eventually something will go horribly wrong, and this makes me fear for Boromir.


	25. The Brewing of Something that May Come

**2980**

Early in the New Year, the great Captain Thorongil returned to Minas Tirith. This brought bitter disappointment to my husband. As a dutiful wife, I stood beside him in the throne room as Lord Ecthelion greeted Thorongil as if he were his own son. I could tell that this act of kindness deeply angered Denethor. When I looked at Thorongil and the hate in Denethor's eyes, I wondered if this hate was nothing more than jealousy. Personally, I admired Lord Thorongil. I was so glad to see him back in the city, but I knew Denethor would not allow me any time alone with a man who he so despised.

"My lady," Thorongil said, bowling low. "I hope that you are in better health?"

I smiled warmly – he was rather handsome. "I am. Thank you."

Thorongil turned to Denethor and bowed again. "Lord Denethor, I congratulate you on the birth of your son, Boromir."

For a small moment, I saw happiness come to Denethor's eyes, but it was quickly covered with displeasure for the man who stood before him. "Thank you."

"Come," Ecthelion said, slowly standing up from his throne – he had never fully recovered his strength from his last illness. "I believe Lord Thorongil has council and news he wishes to speak with me. Let us go somewhere more comforting."

While the men were busy in their council, I took my private time and spent it with Boromir. He had turned two years old three months ago, and already, Denethor was spoiling him. He would present Boromir with wooden daggers and play swords. He had also given our son a wooden toy army set to play with. Of course, Boromir was far too young to quite understand the meaning of these so-called 'toys'. Actually, Boromir took no interest in them at all. Instead, he played with the softer toys – the stuffed bears and other animals. He enjoyed placing them all on his little bed and covering them with a blanket so they could sleep. I found this adorable. I honestly thought Boromir would grow up to be a gentle soul.

"Mama, mama... hurt!" Boromir cried as I entered the nursery.

"He accidently hit his elbow on the table's corner," the nursemaid said solemnly.

Boromir was rubbing his right elbow with tears swelling in his eyes. "Come here," I said, picking him up and kissing him tenderly on the cheek. "Where does it hurt?"

"Here," Boromir said, pointing to his elbow.

I kissed it for him. "There. Does it feel better?"

Boromir nodded. "Better."

I smiled at him. His vocabulary was rather good for his age. I put him back down and he quickly walked over to his toy chest and started pulling all the toys out. I sat and played games with him all afternoon. Besides his stuffed toys, he enjoyed rolling a ball across the room with me, and stacking blocks to make little towers. Eventually, these little towers were cast down when he threw himself on top of them as a game. He was such an active toddler. From the moment he woke up to the hour he fell asleep, he would be running around doing something. Every night, I would watch him kneel at his bed and say his nightly prayer to the Valar. I had taught him a simple prayer of good health and fortune. He seemed to be curious as to who or what the Valar were and why he needed to talk to them before going to sleep. I tried to explain their existence, but nothing seemed to make sense to him. Therefore, I left further explaining until he was old enough to comprehend.

**...**

Two weeks into Lord Thorongil's stay, my brother and Lord Agoron sailed up the Anduin River to Osgiliath. I was so excited that they were visiting, that I dressed as elegantly as I could and wore my hair down – Agoron liked my hair down. Both men were due to ride across the plain and over to Minas Tirith and up to the citadel, where I stood holding Boromir.

"I am sure he can stand on his own two feet," Denethor said, gently taking Boromir out of my arms and placing him in front of us. "You need not bother to mother him these days. Remember, next year he is to start his combat training."

I tightened my jaw. "Yes, husband." How dare he! Boromir loved it when I held him.

Boromir fidgeted as he stood impatiently. "Stand still, son," Denethor said sternly. "During court appearances, you must be obedient."

Boromir looked up into his father's eyes and nodded. "Yes, ada."

Denethor seemed satisfied with that response, but to me it sounded like a man on guard, despite the baby voice.

Several moments later, Imrahil and Agoron strode into the throne room, both wearing matching, silver, and blue armour with deep blue capes clasped around their necks. I found them both very handsome, and had to resist a strong urge to grin.

"My Lord Ecthelion," Imrahil said, sweeping an elegant bow that he had obviously mastered from copying our father. My, my! How my little brother had grown up to into manhood! He was still considered a lad when I had to marry Denethor, and now he stood before me – tall, sea-grey eyes and sharp black hair that was cut short. It was common in any coastline cities, for men to have short hair. It seemed far easier to keep under control from the harsh ocean breezes that can quickly turn into a gale.

Agoron also bowed. He shot me a quick glance, but his eyes showed no emotion. I knew this is how it was supposed to be in public, and it pained me.

After the introductions, Thorongil appeared and introduced himself to Imrahil and Agoron. It was brief, and Thorongil seemed to be on a time schedule. "I believe the sooner we start our council, the better for all," he said, bowing his head to Ecthelion.

Ecthelion smiled and stood up. "I agree. Denethor, come."

My husband left my side without a word and obediently followed his father and Thorongil out of the throne room. Before Imrahil and Agoron followed, they came up to me. Imrahil gently picked up Boromir and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek.

"So this is my nephew who you have been keeping from Dol Amroth!" he said joyously. "Father is most eager to meet him!"

I faintly smiled. "It is not my fault. Denethor does not wish to visit."

"Well _he_ does not have to come," Imrahil said curtly.

"Yes, I know, but I need his permission to leave the city," I reminded him.

Imrahil made a face and shook his head. "Ridiculous," he murmured.

Agoron bowed to me again, lifted my hand, and kissed it briefly. "My lady," he said. "I hope you are in good health?"

I blushed and smiled. "I am."

Imrahil watched our exchange with a mischievous grin on his face. "Come, Agoron. They will be wondering where we have gone to." He placed Boromir in my arms and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "It is good to see you again, sister."

After they had left, I walked to the nursery with Boromir squirming in my arms. "No, no!" he kept saying, trying to get out of my arms. "Down, down, mama!"

He was leaning towards the floor, so I placed him down. He looked up at me with a sad face. "Ada, down."

I comprehended his words, and I knew what he was trying to say. Denethor had told me to put him down in the throne room. Had his words affected Boromir? Did he not want me to hold him anymore? "Come, darling," I said hastily, grabbing his little hand. "Do you want to walk?"

Boromir nodded vigorously. "Walk."

**...**

Late in the afternoon, before dinner, I went down and visited Imrahil and Agoron in our townhouse. I wanted to take Boromir with me, but Denethor 'kindly' refused, saying it was a bad idea for a toddler to be walking around at this hour.

Imrahil greeted me with a big brotherly hug and another kiss on the cheek. I was marvelled to see that he was now taller than I was! "I barely recognise you," I said, stepping over the threshold.

Imrahil grinned. "I am a man now."

"You always were," I said, making my way over to the sitting room. I entered and Agoron was there, sitting at the table. I smiled and he pulled out a chair for me.

"So tell me about Boromir," Imrahil said, sitting down also.

I sighed. "He is a good boy, strong and healthy. Denethor dotes on him, as he should. However, I am concerned. Boromir will be three years old next year and Denethor is going to send him to Osgiliath to start his combat training."

Imrahil and Agoron exchanged a look of unease. "That is a young age to start combat training," Agoron remarked.

I nodded in agreement. "I know, but he will not listen to reason! He tells me that three years is the youngest age a child may start."

"I never started my proper training until I was six," Imrahil said, sitting back in his chair. "I used to play with wooden swords before that, but three years is a very young age."

"I have no say in the matter," I said miserably. "I think six would be a better age, but Denethor is fixed on starting our son at a younger age."

My brother placed his hand over mine and squeezed it. "I am sure Boromir will be well looked after."

"I wish I could be as confident as you are," I said grimly. "I will never be happy with this arrangement."

"There is something else, is there not?" Imrahil pressed.

"Denethor told me today that I do not need to mother Boromir anymore. Before you arrived, I was carrying Boromir, because he likes being close to me. Denethor thought otherwise and made him stand. When I was taking him back to the nursery, Boromir did not want me to hold him. He wanted to walk instead." I started to cry, so I buried my head in the hands.

I felt Imrahil stroking my back, but it did not sooth me. "I am sorry, Finduilas," he said softly. "I wish there was something that I could do."

"Would you try and reason with Denethor?" I asked, not expecting a hopeful answer.

Imrahil hesitated. "I could try."

"Thank you," I said, wiping my tears away.

**...**

I walked slowly back to the citadel. I was in no mood for dinner, but I sat through it. Thorongil had joined us and was talking merrily with Ecthelion. I tried to be as cheerful as I could, but Denethor did not seem happy at all, and I knew why.

Later that evening, when I was sitting in my chamber, Denethor stormed in. "How was your visit to your brother?" he grumbled.

I frowned. "Fine."

"Was he alone?"

My frown deepened. "No, Agoron was there."

Denethor stared at me. "_Lord_ Agoron. Why do you not call him by his title?"

I felt nerves swelling inside of me. "He has been a family friend for many years," I replied as casually as I could. "I have been used to calling him plainly 'Agoron'.

"I do not like him," Denethor said spitefully.

"Why?" I asked defensively.

Denethor hesitated, but said no more.

I glared at him. Yes, he knew that I could have been betrothed to Agoron, but surely he does not question my honour? Then again, my husband did not seem to like anyone, and I knew that would never change.


	26. The Coming

**2980**

Two days later, I found myself wishing Imrahil and Agoron a good journey as they left to sail down the Anduin River to Dol Amroth. Thorongil was going with them on some 'mission'. I was rather curious as to what their plans were, but Denethor kept telling me that it did not concern me. I did not know whether his words should have comforted me or make me even more worried. Hmm... more worried? It is all that I seemed to be doing these days. I gave a public farewell with Denethor, and Ecthelion gave Thorongil his blessing. I found this very touching. Denethor was the only other person I had known to receive Ecthelion's blessing.

As I watched them leave from the front courtyard, I felt a pain of sadness spiking in my stomach. I feared for what they may be planning on doing. I knew there was some sort of arrangement being woven in the few days that they visited. Something was abroad. I suppose I would find out in good time.

Later that day, I decided to read a story to Boromir in the private library. It was a simple story about a man and his heard of sheep, but Boromir did not seem too enthusiastic about the story and kept fidgeting with my necklace. I sighed and closed the book feeling quite defeated. Boromir slipped off my lap and ran out into the corridor, looking about him curiously.

"Come, darling," I said, grabbing his hand. Boromir no longer wished to be carried, to my bitter disappointment. "What do you wish to do for the rest of the day?"

Boromir looked up at me hopefully. "Gar... den."

He wanted to go to the garden? "Very well," I said, a little surprised by his request. Boromir never seemed interested in the outdoors, especially during the winter season. It was spring and the flowers were still at full bloom. Boromir ran excitedly around the little garden, touching all the plants that he could find. I found this charming until I saw that he was actually pulling the flower buds off the stems.

"Boromir, stop that!" I snapped, grabbing his hand away from the flowers. "They are not for touching."

Boromir glared at me, but nodded. "Yes, mama."

I sat down on the stone bench and supervised my son as he rolled around on the grass and tried to catch his shadow. I could see that my son was restless, so I decided to get him out of the citadel. It would do him no harm if he were able to see the people and the city that he would one day rule. I told him what we were going to do and he seemed rather excited with the idea. I retrieved his nursemaid and placed a hat on his head before heading out down to the lower levels.

The city flowers were starting to bloom and people were out flocking the streets, carrying on with their business. Boromir found it very exciting and would constantly run off to see something. We walked at a slow pace, as my two year old did not wish to be carried. By the fifth level, he was exhausted, so we sat down at the front of a little shop that served drinks. I bought Boromir a berry drink, which he enjoyed, for he drank it all in less than five minutes.

"He is not used to so much excitement," his nurse said, looking at my son with doting affection. "The Lord Denethor hardly ever allows me to take him down to the markets."

"He is only trying to be a protective father," I said reasonably. "He could catch an illness, or get hurt. You have to remember that Boromir is a very special little boy."

She nodded in agreement. "Yes, he is."

After our break, Boromir was at full energy again. He walked, holding my hand down to the fourth level where there was some public entertainment – a storyteller. I placed Boromir on a little stool so he could listen to the elderly man tell his audience a story of his journey to the north, where he encountered Dwarves up in the Mountains. The children loved it and would gasp with fright, or clap their hands with glee. After the story had ended, Boromir started mumbling on about going to see Dwarves when he was older. The nurse and I laughed together. I highly doubted that my precious little boy would ever be able to travel up to the mountains in the north. Nevertheless, I allowed my son to dream. We reached the bottom level and I showed Boromir where the guards kept watch. He peered over the wall's edge, across to where Osgiliath was gleaming in the distance with the Anduin River flowing smoothly through it.

"Water," Boromir said, pointing at the River. "Blue."

I nodded, smiling. "Yes, darling, the water is blue."

Boromir smiled and pointed back up to the citadel. "Bath... water."

I laughed. "You use water to bathe in, to swim in. You even drink water."

Boromir scrunched up his face. "D-d-dr... drin... drink."

I beamed at him. He had learned a new word! "Drink," I repeated.

"Drink," he said, clapping his hands at his accomplishment.

I looked back at the river and wondered where my brother and Agoron were. They would almost definitely be at Dol Amroth by now. However, something was tugging at me that they were not staying in the city. That in fact they planned to venture elsewhere. Sometimes I wished I were involved in the world of politics. I hated being left in the dark.

"Mama," my son said, tugging at my skirt. "Drink now, mama."

I led him down the long stairs and into the streets once more where his nurse was waiting for us. We easily found another place to sit and rest while Boromir had another drink. This time, he insisted on drinking water.

Once we made it back up to the citadel, Boromir was sleeping in his nurse's arms. His exhaustion did not surprise me, for we had been walking around for an entire day. I helped his nurse tuck him into his bed before going to my chamber to change clothes. All the walking in the sunlight had made me feel sweaty. When I entered my chamber, I saw Denethor standing before me, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Where have you been all day?" he asked.

"I took Boromir down to the lower levels," I replied coolly.

"Was that wise?" He walked over and embraced me, kissing my cheek. "Wife, you must be cautious with our son. Remember, he could easily fall ill."

I continued to rest my head against his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily. "I am sorry if I worried you, but I thought Boromir would enjoy a day out of the citadel, and he did."

"Where did you take him?" he asked.

"Down to the lowest level," I replied. "We walked the entire way."

This time, Denethor stood back from me and folded his arms. "You walked down seven levels with a two year old?"

"Yes," I said defensively. "We rested when we desired to."

"That was not very wise of you," he replied.

I sighed with defeat. "Fine! What is that you want me to do here? I cannot mother Boromir without you telling me to ease up. I cannot take my own son out for the without you having some sort of objection. You will not even permit me to visit my family in Dol Amroth, or to have a pleasant conversation with Captain Thorongil, or Lord Agoron. Everything that I seem to do or want to do, you are never happy. Why Denethor?"

The moment I had said all that, I wanted to take it back. I should not have yelled at him and I knew he would become equably mad within an instant.

"Because you are my wife and I love you!" he shouted back. "You are bound to serve and obey me! Just as you said all those years ago when we first married."

"So are we to keep Boromir locked up here then?" I retaliated. "Do we not show him off to the people?"

"He is far too young for that," Denethor grumbled. "Next year, he will be sent to Osgiliath. When that day comes, then he can be shown to the public."

I was shaking with anger. "Fine! If Boromir is to go to Osgiliath, then I shall accompany him."

"No!" Denethor roared. I lowered my eyes at his rage. I did not expect our argument to become so heated. I swore the whole citadel heard Denethor shout 'no'. I bit my bottom lip to stop tears from falling down my face. I felt to large hands lift my head. "I am sorry, Finduilas," Denethor said more calmly. "I did not mean to yell so viciously at you. Please, believe me when I say that I need you by my side."

I was still shaking, so I bowed my head in respect for my husband and left the chamber. That night, I would stay in a different chamber, away from him. How dare he! He had no right to yell at me in such a forceful tone. Did he not see that I cared for my little boy more than anything in this life? I only want what was best for him and nothing more. I walked out into an alcove for some fresh air. I lifted my hand to the pendant that hung around my neck. It was the pendant that Denethor had given me right after we married. Angrily, I tore it off my neck and threw it over the alcove. I watched it fall mercilessly down to the lower levels of the city, hoping it would shatter into a thousand pieces.

'_Down the Anduin River, a warrior shall sail - lifeless, defenceless, a long way from home, while a brother shall seek the Horn that was blown.'_

I woke up, breathing heavily. I touched my forehead and felt sweat trickling down my face. I had dreamed that most awfully event. I saw a man with his sword lain across his body as he slept for an eternity in a small boat. A voice was speaking through the wind about this fallen warrior, yet I could not comprehend what the meaning of this dream could be. I had never seen the man before, though he did look familiar.

I got out of bed and wrapped my mantle tightly around my body. I pulled the window's curtain across and looked down at the Anduin River. Did I have the sight? I knew that Elvish Blood ran through my veins, but my father said it was now very weak. I was a true Numenorean, though. Perhaps that is why I was dreaming such things. Maybe it was a dream and nothing more. I walked over to the basin and splashed cold water over my face. After getting back in bed, a thought kept tugging at me. It was something that I had closed away from myself, too afraid to hear it. But after that dream, I could now hear it vividly:

_The Darker Days Are Coming..._


	27. Unwanted Occurances

**2981**

It was Boromir's third birthday. A day of celebration turned into a quiet family event. I was proud that my special little boy was growing up to be healthy and strong, but I was also dreading this event. Denethor now had the power to send our son down to Osgiliath to start combat training. I did not want this. Boromir was still far too young. His dark hair was falling just below his ears, and he was still wearing his toddler clothing. The only difference now was that Denethor had given our son a wooden sword for his birthday. At first, Boromir just stared blankly at the sword, banging it on the floor. Denethor had to instruct him on how to use properly it – instructing him as if his training had already begun.

"I really must protest," I complained to my husband, as Boromir was swinging the wooden sword around.

Denethor's fondly gaze turned from Boromir to me. "Why?"

"Because, he is far too young," I insisted.

Denethor sighed heavily. "Finduilas, do I need to remind you that you are my wife? Therefore, you are bound to obey and serve me."

"When are you sending _my_ son away?" I asked disapprovingly.

"_Our_ son will be sent to Osgiliath in three days time," he replied.

My mind started filling with possible scenarios of what could happen if my precious little boy was taken from me. Would my life here in the citadel go back to the way it was before my life was filled with the laughter of a child? No. No – I could not handle it.

"I will accompany him," I said boldly. "I will go with Boromir to Osgiliath."

"No," Denethor said sternly. "I need you here."

"For what?" I asked tartly. "You spend all day in council, or locked up in your study. I hardly ever see you." I placed my hands on my hips. "Boromir needs me more than you do. I will stay at your family house by the river. Boromir can stay there too."

My words did not make my husband pleased. He stood there, towering over me. "No," he said daringly.

"Yes," I said with more force. There was no way I was going to let anyone, not even my husband separate me from my own child. To me, it was unthinkable.

Denethor sighed in what I believed to be defeat. "You truly love our son?" he asked more gently.

I smiled. "Of course I do. How could you ever doubt a mother's love for her child?" I said. "All I want to do is be there for Boromir."

"As do I," Denethor said, agreeing. "But you must remember that we both have our duties."

"My main duty is to my son," I reminded him. "I can complete my other duties in Osgiliath. What harm could be done?"

He thought for a moment, probably considering the possible outcomes. "Very well," he said, giving in.

I grinned with triumph. Very few people were able to sway Denethor's mind due to his willful stubbornness.

"Thank you," I said, embracing him. "Thank you."

"Just be careful," he said, stroking my back.

"Careful," I repeated, feeling a little nervous. "Whatever do I need to be careful of?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "No. It is nothing. Osgiliath is safe enough." Honestly, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself, not me.

I eyed him suspiciously before stepping out of his arms. "I shall start packing."

**...**

Boromir and I arrived in Osgiliath three days later. I found myself thrilled about living by running water. The Anduin River was not the ocean, but it ran into the sea, and to me, that was good enough for the time being. I was still yet determined to convince Denethor to allow me to journey back to Dol Amroth. Right now, it was my dying wish.

Boromir was ecstatic! He was so thrilled about being able to leave Minas Tirith. Better yet, Denethor had bought him a pony to ride. Of course, I was against the idea. He was far too young to be riding on his own. However, as always, Denethor had the last say. He kept reminding me of the benefits of starting to teach Boromir all the necessities of being a soldier at a young age. If it kept going on like this, I feared Boromir would not have a childhood.

"Father says I am going to be training to be a soldier," Boromir said happily. "He said I will get to use a _real_ sword and other... other..." Boromir frowned, trying to find the word. "W-weapons."

I looked at my son; his appearance was becoming more and more like his father every new day. Honestly, it frightened me. My love for my husband had not completely diminished, but the last thing I wanted for my son was to grow up to be like his father. I knew that would not completely happen, since Denethor was fixed on Boromir becoming a strong and capable warrior, but what if Boromir inherited his father's stubbornness and pride. Oh, how I did not want that to happen.

"Mother," Boromir said very maturely.

I sighed. I still wanted him to call me 'mama'. "Yes, darling?"

"Why do you appear sad?" he asked, his little face full of concern.

"I am not sad," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "I am just worried."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, this training you are going to be doing is very dangerous," I tried to explain.

Boromir shook his head. "No. Father said I won't get hurt," he said high-spirited. "He said that the best soldier never gets hurt, and he said I will end up being the best soldier."

What! Denethor told him that! That is completely absurd! Imrahil was considered one of the finest soldiers in Dol Amroth, and yet he still received his fair share of injuries - even during training sessions. In fact, I had never even met a soldier who had never been injured... ever!

"I am afraid your father was mistaken," I told Boromir gravely. "Every soldier will get wounded at some point."

Boromir frowned at me. "Father is never wrong," he said with pride. "He will be the Steward of Gondor one day, just like I will be."

Before I could reply, the guards signalled our arrival into Osgiliath. There were fewer people than my last visit, and most people were walking around quietly, as if they were too afraid to make a noise. We arrived at the townhouse of the Stewards, which was located right on the river. The house was utterly beautiful. Made entirely of white stone, it glimmered in the sunlight. As I entered, I was met by a dozen servants and maids. The whole house was draped with blue and silver tapestries and curtains. The floors were lined with shades of dark blue carpets, and the furniture was finely polished wood. In fact, the entrance room alone was far more decorated than the palace in the citadel.

"Pretty," Boromir said, looking around. "Silver." He pointed at one of the candlestick holders. "This colour is silver," he said proudly.

I grinned. "Very good, darling."

"I am learning all the colours of the rainbow," he said, skipping into the sitting room.

I watched him walk around the room, pointing at objects and naming what colour they were. However, the large fireplace at the other end of the room distracted me. It was so large! Cushioned chairs surrounded it, with dark blue curtains draping over the windows, making the atmosphere very cosy and welcoming. I smiled – I would definitely be very happy here!

I was shown to my room, where two handmaidens stood, waiting to serve me. I ordered them to unpack my belongings, while I took off my riding clothes.

My chamber was like the rest of the house; draped in blue and silvers, with the occasional trimming of gold. There was even a large portrait hanging on the wall. It was of a noble woman, dressed beautifully in shades of orange and yellow. Her hair was dark ginger, and her face seemed pleased. The brightness and tone of the painting made me feel more content and at ease. I walked over and sat on the chair by the window overlooking the river. I sighed contentedly. I knew I was going to be very happy here.

**...**

A week had passed and Boromir had begun his training. I cried the morning he left for his first day. He told me there was nothing to cry about, for he would return victorious. Nothing can sooth a mother's pain of watching her son leaving to train with dangerous weapons. I spent most of that day cooped up in my chamber, sitting by the window. I felt depressed. I was also on high alert. Every time someone entered the house, I would immediately think that Boromir had been injured. When he returned that evening, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep before supper. This routine went on for the entire week, until I grew so concerned that I told the caretaker of the house to go to the training barracks and tell whoever was in charge to go easier on Boromir. News of this demand reached Denethor's ears, and I received a rather irritated latter from him. He informed me that it was not my duty to instruct how hard Boromir was to be trained. If I were to continue along this path, he would have me sent back to Minas Tirith. I was so angry that I threw his letter into the fireplace, along the goblet I was also holding at the time. I believe this action made the servants a little afraid to be around me, for they started to tiptoe in my presence. I suppose I had overreacted...

My annoyance and fretting was over two weeks later when I was informed I had a visitor. At first, I believed it to be Denethor coming to check up on me, and if that were so, I was ready to give him a mouth full. Instead, I found Agoron standing by the fireplace, grinning.

"Agoron," I said breathlessly. "I-I... I had no idea you were in Osgiliath." I tried to keep my posture straight and dignified in case Denethor had any of his spies within the household.

Agoron bowed low. "I have only just arrived, my lady. I came to see if you were in good health."

"I am in perfect health," I replied, feeling my heart flutter.

"I have also come to deliver these two letters from your father and brother," he continued.

I smiled gratefully and accepted the letters. "Would you like to stay for tea?"

"Certainly," he said, taking a seat at the small table.

Once we were finally alone, I grabbed his hand. "I am so glad to see you," I said. "I have been in agony here. I do not approve of Boromir training at such a young age, and it pains me to see him so overworked every evening when he returns."

Agoron nodded. "It must be hard for you."

"Is something troubling you?" I asked, seeing the sadness in his face.

"I did not wish to tell you this," he said softly. "My father has become wary of my bachelor state. He has betrothed me to a Lady from Pelargir."

I felt like crying. No. No, I felt like doing more than that. I wanted to scream with rage. My beloved Agoron betrothed to a woman other than me? It was unthinkable. "I-I do not know what to say," I replied, feeling tears swelling in my eyes.

"Finduilas," he said gently. "You of all people must know that I would have to marry eventually."

I nodded. "I know, but I shut the thought of it out of my mind."

"I wish it were not so," he said, sitting back in the chair, "for I have not even met the woman."

"Do you know when the wedding will take place?" I asked, wiping my eyes.

"No," he said simply. "It has not been organised that far ahead, for the Lady's father has not yet paid the entire dowry my father is demanding."

"What is her name?" I asked.

"Lady Liviel," he answered. "A name not as beautiful as Finduilas."

I grinned, feeling my cheeks blush.

We were both startled when the doors burst open. "Lady Finduilas, I come with grave news. Lord Boromir has been injured," the messenger said, trying to catch his breath.

My eyes widened and I jumped out of my seat. "How badly?"

"I do not know," he answered. "I was sent to inform you that he has been taken to the Houses of Healing."

I felt Agoron steady me. "We must leave now," he said. "Come."

I allowed Agoron to lead me out of the house and onto my horse. The whole way I was thinking up possible injuries that Boromir could have received. I prayed to the Valar that it was nothing serious, but I could not stop the tears flowing down my face.

I ran into the Houses of Healing and found Denethor talking to one of the physicians. I glared at him. I wanted to yell and scream at him - blame him for what had happened to Boromir, but I dared not make a scene. I also noticed that Agoron had remained outside. I did not blame him, though.

"Where is he?" I asked Denethor.

"He is sleeping," he replied gravely.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"He was not concentrating while he was being taught how to clean a sword, and he ended up slicing his hand," the physician answered.

I did not answer either of them. I was furious. I walked into the room Boromir was being kept in. He was sleeping soundly, with his injured hand over his chest. His hand was bandaged tightly, but I could see the redness of blood being soaked up. I knew this was going to happen, yet no one bothered to listen to me.

"Finduilas," Denethor said from behind me.

I turned around and folded my arms.

"I am not allowing you to return to Osgiliath," he said. "I will have the servants bring your belongings back."

"What of Boromir," I inquired, not feeling any remorse for myself.

"He will be sent back to the training ground in a week's time," Denethor answered. "That is an order, Finduilas," he added before I could retaliate.

I unfolded my arms and left the Houses of Healing. I found Agoron standing in an alley.

"I must leave," he said, checking over my shoulder.

I nodded. "I know."

He kissed my hand. "Goodbye, Finduilas."


	28. Fears of a Princess

**2982**

It had been a year since Boromir had started his training. Denethor and I would write letters to him all the time to help him in his reading lessons. Occasionally, he would reply, his handwriting still terribly messy and rather hard to read. At least he was trying, that was the main thing.

It had taken me five months to become accustomed to not having my little boy living with me. Sometimes I would naturally go and find him, as I always would. It pained me when I walked into the nursery, only to find it completely empty, as if there had never been a child. Denethor tried his best to keep me in good spirits, and I appreciated his efforts, but the only cure for my longing was to have my son back in my arms.

Finally, a month after his fourth birthday, Boromir was permitted to return to the citadel for a week. I was so pleased, that I went down to the markets and bought him a heap of new toys. I made sure that the nursery was prepared for him, but Denethor came in and told me that Boromir no longer needed to stay in the nursery.

"But he is only four years of age," I said, astounded.

"He is old enough to have a proper chamber," Denethor said, having the last say.

Old enough to have his own chamber! Customs were so different here in Minas Tirith than in Dol Amroth. My father never allowed any of his children to have a proper chamber until they celebrated their seventh birthday. Boromir was far from that age. I moved all of the belongings in the nursery to the luxurious chamber two corridors away. It was rather large – the poster bed was bigger than my own! I knew Boromir would be very comfortable in there, for I knew that Denethor would give nothing but the best to his beloved son. Still, I thought all of this transformation was far too soon.

Two days later, Boromir arrived, dressed handsomely in his dark blue breeches and silver tunic. Valar! Had he changed! His hair was still the same length, yet lighter. His nose had a sprinkle of freckles, probably from being out in the sun too much. I smiled. Those freckles made him look adorable! He also stood with a straighter posture; there was no mistake that he was the son of a Lord. He greeted Denethor first with an embrace. After, Denethor instructed him to kneel before him in future greetings. How ridiculous!

It was my turn to be greeted. I laughed as Boromir ran into my arms, ignoring all protocols of greeting a Lady of High Birth. I did not mind, for I had greatly missed him.

"Mother," he said - his voice much stronger. "I have missed you so much."

I embraced him again and kissed his warm cheek. "I have missed you too, darling."

He grinned. "I hope you are in good health."

I nodded. "That I am. I hope you are also in good health."

"Indeed I am, mother," he said. He was far too mature for his age, though it did not surprise me.

"I wish your visit could be welcomed with warmer news," I started, "but your grandfather, Steward Ecthelion is very ill."

Boromir nodded. "Yes, I know. Father wrote to me about it."

I looked over Boromir's shoulder and saw Denethor talking with our son's governor. "Your grandfather wishes to see you."

Boromir nodded. "I am ready to see him now, if he will accept my presence."

"Of course he will accept your presence," I said, surprised by his words. "You are his grandson."

"But he is the Steward of Gondor," Boromir said. "Surely he has more urgent matters to attend to."

"As I have said, your grandfather is very weak," I replied. "Your father has been put in charge of state matters."

We arrived at the Steward's chamber and were admitted by the guards. Ecthelion was lying in bed, wearing his heavy robe. He was reading was seemed to be a book concerning the laws of Gondor, but I was not certain.

"My lord," I said, curtsying. "I have come to present my son, Boromir to you."

Ecthelion put the book down and smiled warmly at Boromir and I. "Come here," he said, opening his arms.

Boromir frowned and looked up at me with confusion. "Well go and give your grandfather an embrace."

Boromir was still confused, but obeyed. He walked cautiously over to the big bed, climbed onto it, and embraced his grandfather.

"My, you have grown, Boromir," Ecthelion said, eyeing his grandson up and down. "How goes your training?"

"It goes very well, Lord Steward," Boromir replied, sitting back on the bed. "I am at the top of my classes."

Ecthelion grinned. "How marvellous! Which classes?"

"Sword training, literacy, art, geology, sport, and numeracy," Boromir said, counting them on his little fingers. "I like sword training above all."

"I am sure you do," Ecthelion said proudly. "Which is your least favourite class?"

"Dancing," Boromir answered, crossing his arms. "I don't like moving around like that."

Ecthelion and I laughed together. "It is one of the requirements you must learn so you can come to court," Ecthelion replied. "You shall enjoy it far more at court."

Boromir seemed to think of that possibility, but shook his head. "No, I have to touch girls' hands while I am dancing. I do not like girls. They scream loudly and talk about silly things, like flowers and dolls."

Ecthelion tried to laugh again, but started coughing. "You will learn to appreciate girls when you are older. They are not like boys. They need protecting and looking after."

Boromir frowned and shook his head. "But I do not want to look after a girl. To me it sounds like a waste of time!"

"Your father looks after me," I said, trying to make the topic a little more appealing.

"But I am not like father," Boromir said defensively. "My governor said so. He said that my father does not train with swords, nor has he ever been in battle. One day, I will be in a battle and not looking after a mere girl."

"Perhaps you could do both," Ecthelion suggested.

"Do you mean I should take a girl onto a battlefield?" Boromir asked, tilting his head to the side.

No, no. That would be far too dangerous for a young lady," Ecthelion replied. "What I mean is that you could marry a girl and look after her while you are not on the battlefield."

Boromir's face was shocked by that proposition. "No! I could never do that! I have it all planned out," he said with complete confidence. "I shall spend as much time on the battlefield, defending this realm and leading men, and while I am not defending this country, I will be practising to become an even better soldier of Gondor. I will never stop trying to become a better and better swordsman."

Ecthelion and I exchanged concerned looks. "You do realise that you will be required to marry eventually."

"Nobody can make me do something I do not wish to do," Boromir said, crossing his arms. "I do not like girls, so why would I want to marry one? I would be stuck with her forever!"

Ecthelion sat up a bit straighter and gave Boromir a serious look. "Boromir, listen to me, you are a son of the House of Stewards. Your ancestors have been ruling Gondor in place of King far longer than anyone can remember. As a future Steward yourself, you are expected to marry and produce an heir to continue the Line of Stewards. If you do not do this, you will ruin the Line of Stewards. Do I make myself clear?"

I must have been as shocked as Boromir was by Ecthelion's lecture. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought Ecthelion could speak like that, especially to a child! It was then when I saw where Denethor inherited his forcefulness.

"I do not want to fail my forefathers," Boromir muttered, sliding off the bed. "I bid you a good day, Lord Steward." I watched my son bow and exit the chamber.

"Remember, he is still only a small child," I said to Ecthelion, before leaving the chamber myself.

**...**

Denethor had sent for Boromir and was spending some quality father-son time in his study. I decided I wanted to go and visit Voronda's grave. It had been many years since I had last been there. In fact, I have dreaded returning to her grave in fear of the deep wound of her loss re-opening. I placed a bunch of flowers atop of her grave and sat down on the white stone pavement. I kissed my hand and placed it on the slab of tomb.

"I wish you were here," I said, tracing the cracks of the pavement with my finger. "I could really do with your comfort. I feel so... left out these days. Your uncle makes all the decisions concerning Boromir without consulting me. Now, I fear Boromir is not going to have a proper childhood. I do not even know if he plays with toys anymore." I sighed and looked up at the cloudy sky. "I believe I was not born for this life in Minas Tirith. I was not meant to be the First Lady of Gondor. It was not my destiny." I turned my gaze out west, towards the sea. "I long to be free of this city. Free of all the protocols and customs of Gondor. It is utterly hard to remember them all." I sighed and stood up, taking one last look at her grave. "I will always love you, Voronda. I do hope you have found the peace and freedom you deserve."

On my way back to the palace, I saw Mordor glooming on the distance. It made me grow cold and I started to shiver. That place terrified me! I wish to the Valar that Minas Tirith did not have to be its neighbour, but what were the chances of my wish coming true?

I believed I was doomed the moment I married Denethor. Doomed to live a life of complaining, sadness, and longing for the sea.


	29. High Hopes

**2982**

I was right. I was doomed.

At the end of the year 2982, I discovered I was with-child once more. I cried when I was told the news. I cried for hours and hours, hugging my pillow. I did not want this child. I was afraid for it; afraid of what sort of life he or she would have to endure. I supposed I should have expected it to happen. I was never cold towards Denethor when we were in bed. I always did my duty as a wife, even though I always felt uncomfortable through the whole procedure.

I knew that Denethor would be pleased with my condition, but I could find no comfort creating new life in a time where other life was abruptly being taken from those already alive. The Dark Lord had sent a battalion of Orcs into Ithilien, heading towards Osgiliath. The scouts of Gondor immediately alerted their officials, and the entire enemy force was destroyed twenty miles south of Osgiliath. Everything was now in motion, and I feared mostly for Boromir. My poor boy. My poor child! Why do I always get this cold feeling that he shall die young? It is something that no mother should ever think of.

"Ah, Finduilas," Denethor said spiritedly as I entered his study. "I have some news!"

"As do I," I replied, feeling my stomach turn.

"Tell me," he said in an almost serious tone.

"Well," I said, taking a seat. I did not wish for him to embrace me with joy. I just wanted to get it over with, "I am with-child once more."

The air was silent as Denethor took in my news. His face went from surprise to utter happiness. "Is it true?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered. "The midwife says that I am due mid next year."

My husband walked over to me and kissed my hand. "I am so happy," he said, gazing down into my eyes. "Do you hope for a daughter this time?"

I had not actually considered it, but a daughter would be nice. I smiled. "A daughter would please me, as would a son. I do not mind either."

Denethor nodded. "Well Boromir shall be delighted. He has been asking me if he would ever have a sibling." He paused. "My news to you is that Boromir's training is being moved to Minas Tirith."

"Really," I said, feeling happiness engulf me. "Is it so?"

He nodded again. "Yes. Our son shall be returning within the week."

I smiled once more. "I am very happy."

**...**

I found little time for rest in the days to follow. Denethor and Ecthelion had publicly announced my condition, and people were constantly approaching me, offering their warm words and best wishes. They made me feel better about my pregnancy, and I held onto the hope that I would deliver a daughter. I even secretly vowed that I would name her Voronda.

The nursery was being set up once more. New linen and cloth of blues, silver, and gold were being used, and I sat with my maids and embroidered pillow covers to be used in the cradle. The more involved I became, the more excited I felt. I was fixed with the idea that I was carrying a girl. I knew that if I were to birth another boy, he would be sent away from me just as Boromir had been. It would pain me immensely to see another child of mine being taken away from my arms.

Boromir came to visit me one afternoon as I sat in my chamber embroidering a quilt. My son bowed elegantly at me. "Lady Mother," he said as officially as he could muster.

I grinned and placed my embroidery on the table. "My sweet boy," I said, opening my arms. "Come here."

Hesitantly, Boromir walked across the room and embraced me. "May I sit with you?" he asked after regaining his posture.

I nodded. "Most certainly." Boromir sat across from me and clasped his hands on the table; he was much the image of his father when he did that. "I am sure your father has informed you of my condition," I started carefully. I was still not sure how Boromir would react to the idea of having a younger sibling, even though Denethor praised the whole matter.

Boromir nodded. "Yes, mother. He told me that I will be expecting a younger sibling in the months to come."

"How do you feel about this?" I asked.

"I... I feel fine," he replied, slightly tilting his head to the side. "Father told me that if I am to have a little brother, that I will be his guardian."

I raised my eyebrows. I had not heard of this plan. "Truly? Well, nevertheless, this child will not sway mine or your father's love for you."

Boromir nodded. "I know, mother."

"Are you enjoying your new training here in Minas Tirith?" I inquired. I was starting to find it rather difficult to produce a reasonable conversation with my son, for he was so stern and quiet for his young age of four.

"I am," Boromir said, his face lighting up as he spoke. "Father says if I finish this year with an outstanding grade, he will grant me my first _real_ sword – such a one which is actually used in real battles!"

I forced myself to smile. I was actually quite displeased with this. I did not want Boromir to own his own sword until he was at least able to hold it up without falling over. But then again, it did not surprise me. Denethor went ahead and gave Boromir things without consulting me. He even made promises to him, which I never found out until I heard the servants gossiping. Whenever I confronted Denethor on the matter, he told me that I was interfering in business that should only be discussed between a father and son. How ridiculous!

"Mother," Boromir said, leaning across the table. "Father says that one day I will be the focus of stories of war and glory. How does he know this?"

War and glory? I felt so embarrassed. What on Earth had gotten into Denethor's mind! Boromir was still a child! _My_ child. It would take over a decade before Boromir would even be able to join the army.

"Do not think too much of his words, Boromir," I replied. "I want you to think of the present and nothing more."

Boromir nodded, staying silent for several moments. "Need I plan for the future?"

I chuckled. "Darling, you are far too young to be planning your own future. You need to leave that for your father and I to arrange."

"What is there to arrange?" he asked in an almost demanding tone.

"Well," I started, "your father and I have been discussing possible ladies for to wed."

Boromir gawked at me. "No! Please, mother! I do not wish to marry!"

"Hush now," I said, raising my hand to silence him. "You do not need to marry for many, many years."

"How many years?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I shall expect you to at least be married in twenty years time," I answered. "You will be twenty-four by then, and that is a ripe age for marriage."

Boromir did not look satisfied. "Do I _have _to?"

I sighed. "Darling, you need not worry. It is still a very long time away. By then I am certain you will have changed your mind on the idea of marriage."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, it is very unheard of for a person of noble birth to remain unmarried, and need I tell you that one day you will be the Steward of Gondor? As a Steward you are duty bound to produce a legitimate heir."

My poor son did not seem to be grasping the dynamics of marriage very well. "Then may I at least wait until I am Steward to marry?" he asked.

"Perhaps," I replied earnestly. "But do not become upset if your father makes arrangements for an official betrothal."

"What is a betrothal?" he asked curiously.

"A betrothal is when two people are legally promised to each other. By becoming betrothed those two people will eventually have to marry," I said, hoping it made sense. "Your father and I were betrothed before we were married. It happens before every marriage in Gondor."

Boromir let out a long sigh. "I still do not like the sound of it at all."

"Then clear your mind of it," I said, soothingly. "You need not worry at your age. I want you to be happy, for it is every mother's wish for their child to be happy."

Boromir smiled. "I am happy. You and father make me happy, and hopefully, my future younger sibling will make me happy also."

I smiled. His words greatly touched my heart. "You are a good boy, Boromir. Always remember it."

Boromir got out of his seat and bowed. "I take my leave, mother."

After he had gone, I sat back in my chair. Boromir was emotionally growing faster than he was physically, but I guess it was to be expected of a child who is heir to the Steward of Gondor's throne. I was not concerned that Boromir disliked the idea of marriage. My brother, Imrahil was a grown man and still, he found the idea of marriage a little too much. Boromir would grow out of it.

That, I was certain of.


	30. A New Son

**2983**

I went into labour early in the morning. It was not as difficult as it was giving birth to Boromir. My little child came into this world after only four hours. The pain was just as great, however. Feeling so relieved, I lay back on the pillows with my eyes closed as the midwife cleansed my child. But my eyes snapped open when I could not hear the cries of my child.

"What is going on?" I asked weakly, trying to see a glimpse of my child. "What is it?"

"Your Ladyship has delivered a boy," the old midwife said hurriedly. "Sadly, however it seems he is having difficulty breathing."

Valar! No! I felt my heart starting to pound faster than it had done during the labour. "Is... wha-what is happening?" I stuttered.

"Hush," a servant said, stroking my forehead with a wet cloth. "We are fetching a physician."

Her words did not make me feel any comfort. "Can he breathe?" I asked.

The midwife turned to face me. "Barely, my lady."

I started to cry. Why was this happening? What had I done to deserve this! "Tell me he will be all right!"

"He is not dying yet, my lady," the midwife said hastily.

The door swung open and the physician entered with Denethor trailing behind. "Explain the problem," the physician said, picking up my newborn son.

I frowned with anxiety. Having Denethor in the room did not make me feel any better. I watched him peer over the physician's shoulder at our new addition to the family. I saw his face darken. I sat up as my husband walked over to the bedside. "He may die," he said plainly. "Prepare yourself."

I was so shocked at how easy he could say such words. "But they told me he was not dying yet," I explained.

"He is weak," Denethor hissed to me. "How will this appear to the people?"

"Is that all you care about!" I shouted, causing everyone in the room to turn their attention to us.

The physician hesitated. "The boy has some fluid in his lungs, but he shall make a proper recovery. He may sleep for a few hours now to regain his strength."

I turned to Denethor and glared at him. "Never, under any circumstance say something like that to me again!"

"How could we have conceived such a weak child," he said, more to himself.

"He is weak because he is not well," I tried to explain. "Just wait and see. He will grow up to be strong and healthy, just like Boromir."

"He will never be like Boromir," Denethor said rudely. He watched me as I was given my newborn babe to hold for the first time. "He is half the size Boromir was."

I felt like rolling my eyes, but I knew it would not do justice. "Lower your voice," I said sharply. "I do not wish for his sleep to be disturbed." I looked down at my new child. I felt a little wave of disappointment flow through me. I had wanted a daughter. Now, I did not care. I only cared about my new son's wellbeing. "What should we name him?" I asked Denethor softly. "Did you not have a name picked out before his birth?"

"I had one," he answered. "But I no longer think it suits him."

I frowned, quite confused. "Then what shall we name him?"

Denethor paused for several moments, staring at our new son. "Faramir."

I looked back at my son and studied him closely. The name 'Faramir' did suit him, but for some reason I did not quite trust Denethor. "Faramir, it is," I said quietly.

Faramir stirred in my arms, but did not wake. When I turned to look back at Denethor, he was gone. I sighed heavily. I hoped Denethor's sudden act of coldness was not towards Faramir. It was not our son's fault that he was born weak. In fact, it was nobody's fault. Things like this happened all the time. It was natural and expected. Childbirth was a dangerous event.

**...**

Later in the evening, there was a soft knock on the door. Boromir entered looking very sheepish. I smiled warmly at him as I gestured for him to come over to the bed and meet his new younger brother.

"Father says I have a little brother," Boromir said, climbing up onto the bed.

I nodded. "His name is Faramir."

Boromir peered into my arms at the little sleeping bundle. "He is very small."

I smiled. "You were this small once." I knew I was lying, for Boromir had been born at least a half a size bigger.

"Then Faramir will grow up to be as big as me?" Boromir asked hopefully.

"Of course," I replied. "But I need you to promise me that you will love and care for Faramir. He may grow up to be big and strong, but he will always be younger than you."

Boromir nodded. "I would be very happy to watch over him."

"Would you like to hold your brother?" I asked.

Boromir nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

I handed Faramir over to Boromir, who sat upright next to me. Boromir just gazed down at Faramir, who continued to sleep peacefully.

"When will he wake up?" Boromir asked me.

"Not for a while," I answered. "He was a little sick after he was born, so he needs to rest so he can recover his strength."

Boromir's eyes were filled with concern. "But he is not sick anymore?"

"No, no," I said gently. "He is all better now."

Boromir sat back against the pillows and touched Faramir's little nose. I found it so touching to see my two sons bonding.

**...**

No! I could not believe it. How could he?

Two days later, Ecthelion came and visited me in my chamber. While I watched the Steward hold my son, I saw his eyes fill with grief.

"What is the matter?" I asked curiously.

"It is such a shame that Denethor has cursed this boy," Ecthelion said.

I sat up straight. "Excuse me?"

Ecthelion shifted his gaze to me. "I am so sorry, Finduilas. Do you not know what meaning your new son's name?"

Oh, this could not be happening...

"Please tell me," I said, feeling me stomach swirling.

Ecthelion sighed. "Faramir was the name of the second son to King Ondoher – the thirty-first King of Gondor. In the year 1944 of the Third Age, the Wainriders of Rhun invaded Gondor. The King and his eldest son, Artamir led an army to stop them, while Faramir was ordered to remain behind and act as Regent. However, Faramir disobeyed these orders and disguised himself as a Rider of the Eotheod army. When the Wainriders defeated both armies, Faramir was mortally wounded and died. The King and Artamir also perished in battle, thus leaving no heir behind." Ecthelion sighed heavily. "Since then, the name 'Faramir' has been considered cursed within the Royal Family. The man who carried that name rained destruction upon his House. He disobeyed a direct order from his father – the King. His foolishness ended his father's Line."

I sat there, stunned. I looked over at Faramir and wondered what my little boy had done to deserve this. "W-why would Denethor do this?" I asked sadly.

"Denethor was displeased that his son was born weak," Ecthelion replied. "He will never be pleased with Faramir, no matter what happens."

"But Faramir is fine now," I protested. "He is getting stronger."

Ecthelion sadly shook his head. "Denethor does love Faramir – he always will. Sadly, however, that love has been tainted by something that could not have been prevented." Ecthelion slowly stood up and handed Faramir to me. "Look on the brighter side, Finduilas. Boromir adores Faramir." Ecthelion smiled warmly. "They will have a very close bond that will last a lifetime."

After Ecthelion had left, I held Faramir closer to my chest. I needed to protect him from his own father. I could not believe I was even thinking that. How could Denethor be so cruel to his own son! I did not care about my son's name. To me, 'Faramir' was a beautiful name, and I was proud to have a son with such a name. I did not care about what happened in the past. I was not going to let history interfere in my own child's life. Besides, I was never a strong believer in curses. My father always told me that curses were something to scare children into doing the right thing.

I closed my eyes and took two deep breaths. After Ecthelion's speech, I had a strong urge to argue with Denethor. But no. No! I was sick and tired of arguing with Denethor. This time, I was going to let it pass. What is done is done, and I was certainly positive that _my _Faramir was going to do great things in this world.

I could feel it.


	31. The Start Of A New Reign

**2984**

I was amazed to have received a letter from Imrahil, declaring that he had fallen in love. Her name was Lady Rochele. Her father was the Mayor of one the towns along the Belfalas coast. I was so happy to hear that my brother was finally settling down. I knew that he had a wild side and enjoyed being a bachelor, but he did need an heir to succeed him in the future. I continued to read his letter with delight. He wrote of her natural beauties and gracefulness under pressure. Apparently, he had met her during one of his tours along the coastline. He had stayed in the town for a month - a little too long a stay at one town during a tour. However, he also wrote that she had not shown too much interest in him at first, declaring he was nothing more than spoilt royalty. I had to laugh at her courage to call him that. I was already beginning to like her. He continued the letter with how she begun to warm up to him, but then declined his offer of marriage, and he left the town in a fit of despair.

I felt my heart sank at his words. My brother did deserve love. He was a good man; full of kindness and bravery. I began to wonder what the reason was for Lady Rochele to decline his proposal. Maybe she did not warm up to him as much as my brother had thought.

My heart clenched when I read the next paragraph; Agoron had wedded Lady Liviel before the New Year. I knew who she was; she was the daughter of Lord Corinir. Agoron did not love her; I believed that to the bottom of my heart. He may show her kindness and treat her as a husband should treat his wife; but it would not be enough for him to fall in love with her. I had his love in my keeping, and it would remain that way until the ends of our days.

I placed the letter on the table next to me, and watched Faramir toddle around the nursery. He was so adorable and found everything curious. His physical appearances were darker than Boromir's, but there was no mistaking that they were of the same kin. Boromir adored Faramir, and spent most of his spare time in the nursery, playing with his younger brother. Boromir would show Faramir how to place all the toy soldiers in proper formation, and how to use the toy catapult. Denethor, however, was not so pleased that Boromir was 'wasting' his free time playing in the nursery. He wanted Boromir to watch him work in his study, or practise with his sword. Boromir retaliated, claiming he had every right to spend time playing with Faramir. I smiled at Boromir's forcefulness. He had the exact stubbornness of his father, but Denethor refused to admit the similarity. He kept telling himself that Boromir was nothing like him.

**...**

In the middle of summer, Lord Ecthelion died of illness. The entire kingdom went into mourning. Everywhere you looked, black banners, trimmed with silver and gold were hung in remembrance of the Steward. I was required to wear mourning gowns for three months, along with the rest of the court. The sceptre and sword of Stewardship were laid in front of the two great thrones for an entire month, while the Council of Gondor prepared for Denethor's ascension to the Steward's throne.

Boromir understood what was happening. He wore black garments matching Faramir's, and spent most of his time with Denethor, assisting in any way he could. Faramir, however, did not understand a thing. His obliviousness did not bother me, for he was only one year old. Denethor was not so happy. Once, he asked Faramir why he was playing with a toy ball in the garden, when he should be remembering the late Steward. Faramir ended up crying when Denethor took the ball away from him. I was so glad that Boromir comforted his brother that day. It made me feel so relieved that Boromir was not acting as his father wanted him to act around Faramir.

A few days later, I decided to take Boromir and Faramir for a walk down to the lower levels of the city. By the time we reached the first level, the nursemaid was carrying an exhausted Faramir. Nevertheless, he was still very intrigued by all that he saw. Boromir was walking beside me, talking about all the plans his father was going to make now that he was the Steward of Gondor. Most of what my son said did not surprise me.

"Father is going to strengthen the army," Boromir said happily. "He is also going to build more defensive weapons along the walls of Minas Tirith."

"Such plans make me feel so much more secure," I said, feeling a little obedient.

"Father also says that we are lucky that the Dark Lord has not yet attacked us," Boromir continued.

"Perhaps the Dark Lord will never attack us," I replied. "He may find that Gondor is too much of a threat to him."

Boromir shook his head. "Father says that the Dark Lord _will_ attack during his reign."

I frowned. "But how does he know that?"

Boromir shrugged. "I don't know. He told me that he has seen it."

I began to wonder what he had meant by that. '_He has seen it_' – How had he seen it? I knew Denethor did not possess abilities to see into the future. He was not that powerful, despite what Boromir thought.

My thoughts were halted when I saw a young woman walking by. I was stunned to see she was wearing the necklace I had thrown over the wall. She must have picked it up from where it landed. Actually, I was surprised to see that it had not shattered by the fall.

"What is it mother?" Boromir asked, watching me stare back at the woman.

"Nothing, darling," I answered. "Come; let us go up to the watch platform."

**...**

That evening, during dinner, I watched Denethor closely. Lately, he seemed to have aged a bit. Not a lot, but it was visible. I knew he was not getting any younger, but this ageing did not seem... well natural.

"Husband," I started cautiously. "Boromir told me today that you have 'seen' that the Dark Lord intends to attack Gondor during your reign."

Denethor gazed at me. I could not read his expression. "That is correct," he replied. "He is massing forces behind that mighty fortress of his."

I leaned over the table. "But how do you _know_ that?"

"Like Boromir said – I have seen it," he replied simply.

"That does not explain it any easier," I said, sitting back in the chair. "In fact, you rather seem to be avoiding answering my question."

"I do not need to tell you how I receive such information," he said, a little too calmly to what I expected.

"But I am your wife," I pressed. "I have a right to know what my husband is doing."

Denethor placed his knife and fork down on his plate. "Finduilas, state affairs do not concern you, and if you think they will now that you have become the Stewardess of Gondor, then you are very wrong indeed. Your duty as my wife is to raise Boromir in the most gracious and correct manner possible."

"And Faramir," I added, crossing my arms. "Faramir needs raising too."

"Faramir is not heir to the Steward's throne," Denethor replied.

"He is second-in-line," I replied. "Does he not require the exact same teaching as Boromir?"

Denethor shook his head. "No."

"How long is your act of coldness towards Faramir going to last?" I asked assertively. "He is not weak anymore. He is very healthy and Boromir adores him. Everyone except you adores him."

"I see him for what he really is," Denethor said, picking up his wine glass.

I glared at him and slammed my fork on the table, before standing up and storming out of the dining room. When I reached my own chamber, I slammed the door closed and sat down at the desk, taking a few deep breaths. After I had stopped shaking with anger, I placed a parchment of paper in front of me and began to write a letter.

_Dearest Agoron,_

_Oh, how much I miss your company. I need you now more than ever. My life seems to be in shatters. Denethor does not show Faramir the proper fatherly love, as he should. My son has done nothing to deserve such treatment. He is innocent of everything. I do not know what I should do anymore. I feel so awful. I cannot even bare to hold a conversation with Denethor now. Everything he says makes me angry. I barely share a bed with him now, for I am fearful of conceiving another child. _

_Boromir is in good health. He adores Faramir, and for that, I am so grateful. I love my boys so much, and it pains me to see them being compared to each other by their own father, who should love them equally. I no longer know what to do about this. I have no control over this situation. All I can do is watch it all unfold in front of me, and it breaks my heart. _

_I want to write things that are more positive about my life, but I cannot at this moment. I am so sad, Agoron. This is not how I wanted my life to be. At least not how I wanted Denethor to treat his children. _

_Please, tell me what to do._

_Your dearest friend,_

_Finduilas_

I was crying so hard now. The letter to Agoron had several teardrops on it; some were even making the ink run a bit. It did not matter to me, though. At that moment, I did not care about a thing. I sent the letter off to Dol Amroth and then walked quickly to the nursery where Faramir was sound asleep. I pulled a chair over to the small bed and sat down, stroking Faramir's dark hair. I kissed his cheek and forehead, taking in his warmth. I loved him so much. I just wished that Denethor loved him as much as I did. I wanted my husband to get past the horror of Faramir's birth, and see that we have an amazing son who has the capability of aspiring as high as Boromir can. It was not right that they should be compared to each other, as if they were in competition for their father's love.

They were kin; they were brothers.


	32. Hopes That Become Shattered

**2985**

My life did not grow any better. Denethor's unnatural age continued, and even Boromir was starting to notice the sudden change in his father's appearance. It was not only that which was changing, but his personality too. He would snap at anyone who dared speak against his desires. He even started to become more forceful towards me. I was no longer allowed the privacy of my own chamber. I was to share his bed every night for the rest of our lives. I was also 'ordered' to appear at court more often, so the nobility could see me. The reason why I hardly ever attended court was that I had no interest in court life. The women there gossiped about matters that baffled me, and the men were too busy talking amongst them, or trying to receive favours from Denethor. I much preferred to spend my time with my children, or on my own.

Recently, I had no desire for anyone's company. I felt far happier being withdrawn from the world. If I secluded myself in a room with no windows, I could pretend that I was back at Dol Amroth with my family, or I would sit out in the front courtyard, close my eyes, and imagine that the wind blowing on my face was the ocean breeze. I knew there was no possible way that I would be able to go to Dol Amroth now that Denethor was the Steward of Gondor. He wanted me here, in this cold city, by his side. I understood that, for I was his wife and the First Lady in Gondor. Nevertheless, everyone needs to escape at some point in his or her life. For me, escaping was going back to Dol Amroth, swimming in the ocean, and searching for shells. I could do neither of those things here. You could not swim in the Anduin River due to the ships that would sail up and down. There were no shorelines, so you could not collect shells.

During the nights, I would wake up sweating in fear. My dreams were clouded with darkness and images of creatures under the service of the Dark Lord. Sometimes, I felt the fear of Mordor's shadow while spending time with my children. No matter where I went, I was haunted by it. I was beginning o believe that Denethor was right when he said that the Dark Lord would attack during his reign.

When Denethor rose to power, the people cheered at the prospect of a new Steward. I watched their faces as they smiled and shouted words of good fortune to Denethor and me. The people were optimistic. A new leader always gave off a vision of a new, fresh start. That is what the people wanted and expected. I told Denethor that and he agreed fully, saying he would bring greatness and victory to the people of Gondor. I started to appear more in the streets of Minas Tirith, walking on my own, watching how _my_ people lived their lives. Sometimes I even felt bad when I saw someone living in poverty. I would always give them three gold coins out of charity. I did not care if some nobility thought I did it just to become popular amongst the common people. I cared not what was being said about me by the other ladies of the court. I wanted to do what was best for the people, while Denethor was busy strengthening his army when he should be caring for the people's health. I really wanted to tell him what was going on, but I never found the right time.

I was sitting in the antechamber, having a midday meal when a letter arrived. I accepted it and turned it around to see it held no royal seal. It had to be from Agoron, who else?

_My dearest Finduilas,_

_How does this letter find you? It would lift my spirits knowing you were in good health and enjoying a prosperous life. I, myself have reasons to rejoice. My wife, Lady Liviel has delivered a healthy girl. I have a daughter, Finduilas. She is most beautiful in every way. Liviel and I have named her Anthel; meaning gift. She has her mother's deep, brown hair and my silver-grey eyes. I cannot express how happy I am being a father. Anthel is the greatest gift Liviel has given me. I do hope that one day you will have the opportunity to meet my daughter, as I have met Boromir. _

_Tell me all that has been happening in your life. How are your sons? I would like to meet Faramir in the near future. You have written so often of his soft and gentle ways; you seem very fond of him. _

_As always, I give you my love and friendship. _

_Yours only,_

_Agoron _

He has a daughter, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes painfully and carefully folded the letter. Now I know how he must have felt when news reached him of the birth of Boromir. How could he hide such strong emotions from me? It was like a sharp piercing pain in my heart, knowing that another woman had given Agoron such joy and happiness. I was jealous - oh, very, _very_ jealous. But who could blame him? I was untouchable; Agoron had to, no _needed_ to move on. I could imagine him, peering over the cradle, fondly gazing at his beloved daughter with his wife at his side, her arm tucked into his. They were happy. Did he love her? I cringed, I could not think of it. I had always seen Agoron as mine. It was too late to change the past. Why could I not move on?

I fought up the courage to reply to his letter. I had to be happy for him, for his sake. It should have been I, who had given him a healthy daughter, who was living happily by the sea with a handsome husband and a beautiful daughter. I envied her; I envied Lady Liviel.

**...**

As the weeks went by, I discovered that scouts of orcs were attacking the trading routes, and food was becoming scarce because of it. The people were starting to panic.

"Denethor, we must stop these raids," I pleaded to my husband in his study. I found myself kneeling on the ground next to his large chair. "The people will starve otherwise."

Denethor sat in thought for a few moments. "The enemy may want us to prevent these raids. I could be sending my men into an ambush."

"Then send a lot of men," I suggested, not knowing how foolish I sounded; I had no idea how military strategies worked. "You have to do something."

"I know I have to do something," Denethor said, standing up. "I know that you spend a lot of time with the poor, and for that, I am grateful. You are a kind woman, Finduilas. Perhaps it is possible to change the trading routes. We could send resources via ship more often than by cart. There would be less chance of a raid that way."

I smiled gratefully, feeling relieved Denethor was seeing sense. "That is a plausible solution. I am sure the people will feel much relieved; there is panic in the city, and a few riots."

"Riots must be dealt with," Denethor said sharply. "Where would the glory of Gondor be if the people started acting uncivilised?"

"Who cares about the glory of Gondor when the people are starving?" I asked, standing up.

Denethor glared at me. "I care about the glory of Gondor, and so should you. Without the glory of Gondor, how can we show our pride and greatness to our neighbours?"

I frowned. "Who cares what our neighbours think of us. You must put your people's wellbeing first. Your father would have done that."

"My father is no longer Steward," Denethor grumbled. "And you better be sure to remember who is Steward now. You must become accustomed to my new laws, Finduilas. Otherwise, I will become very disappointed with you."

My happiness sank.

The next day, I visited Voronda's grave. I placed a bundle of flowers atop of it and kissed the stone tomb. I still dearly missed her, and yet my memory of her face was slowly disappearing. Nobody had bothered to paint a portrait of her; then again, she was still quite young when she died.

"I miss you, sweet little Voronda," I whispered, before standing up and leaving. I did not know how long I had sat there, thinking of all the pleasant memories I had spent with Voronda, but when I returned to the citadel, I saw Denethor with Boromir in the garden.

"This is who you are named after," I heard Denethor say.

I stood behind the wall and listened to their conversation.

"Who is Faramir named after?" Boromir asked curiously.

"A man who was not as worthy as Steward Boromir," Denethor replied.

"Why was he not worthy?" Boromir asked.

"Because he made foolish actions and died because of them," Denethor replied curtly.

"That does not sound very pleasant," Boromir said. "Why would you name Faramir after a man like that?"

"It was necessary," Denethor answered.

"Why?" Boromir pressed.

"That is enough questions for one day," Denethor said. "Come, you must go to your afternoon studies."

I quickly hurried away to the nursery. I wondered if Faramir would ever know the true reason as to why he was named 'Faramir'. It made my heart clench.

I found my youngest son playing with his usual toys in the nursery under the watchful eye of his nurse. I smiled at them both when I entered and sat down by the fire.

"Mama," Faramir said, climbing up onto my lap. "This... a ... ball," he managed to say proudly.

I grinned. "It is." I was so proud of Faramir. For a very young boy of his age, he was able to speak rather well.

"And... that..." he pointed at the rocking horse, "horse."

I picked him up and placed him on it. He laughed happily, as it went back and forth.

"Mother." I heard a shout and turned towards the doorway. Boromir came running in with a book in his hand.

"What is it, darling?" I asked, picking Faramir up.

"Look! I am writing a story!" he exclaimed, holding the book up at me.

I placed Faramir down and took the book. I sat down and opened it. I was impressed by Boromir fluent sentence structure and the neatness of his writing. I read the first paragraph and realised it was a story about a boy and a horse who were embarking on an adventure through the northern mountains.

I smiled at Boromir. "This is very well written." Boromir beamed at my praise. "Have you shown it to your father?"

Boromir frowned and shook his head. "No. He would not understand, but I knew you would."

I chuckled at his remark. "That I do. You must finish this story so I can find out what happens."

Boromir nodded eagerly and ran out of the nursery with his storybook. I turned my attention back to Faramir, who was jumping around the room, holding his ball. He seemed to have grown an attachment to that ball. His nurse even told me that he slept with it next to him.

**...**

2986: I received an invitation from Imrahil a few months later. He was inviting Denethor and me to his wedding in Dol Amroth. I was so excited! Somehow, he was able to persuade Lady Rochele to reconsider his offer. It must have taken a fair few months to accomplish, for Imrahil wrote of how immensely in love they are with each other. I felt like crying with joy that Imrahil was finally settling down with a woman. The invitation also meant that I would be able to go to Dol Amroth!

"We cannot possibly go," Denethor said an hour later.

"What!" I shouted, feeling all my hopes shatter before me. "Why?"

"This is not the time to be travelling to Dol Amroth," Denethor replied assertively.

I placed my hands on my hips. "To you, it is never a good time," I shouted. "My brother is getting married. I want to be there."

"It is not my problem that he has chosen a bad time to get married," Denethor retaliated.

"Why is it a bad time?" I asked.

"They enemy is massing against us," Denethor said sharply.

"Since when?" I asked, folding my arms.

"It does not matter," he replied. "What does matter is your wellbeing and safety. Dol Amroth is too far away. Do you want to be kidnapped again in the process?"

I glared at my husband. "So you are afraid to travel in your own country?"

Denethor opened his mouth to reply, but he did not answer me. "You may leave my presence now, Finduilas. We are not going to Dol Amroth and that is final. I shall send our best wishes to him and a gift. You may choose the gift if you like. But there is no way we are going to Dol Amroth."

I stormed out of the room and into the corridor. I ran out into an alcove and sank to the ground. I hugged my knees as I wept. I knew that Denethor was too afraid to travel through Gondor. That is why he did not answer me when I asked. We could have taken a ship to Dol Amroth. It would have been far quicker and much safer. None of these alternatives would have pleased Denethor. He did not want to leave Minas Tirith, and that was that. His words were always the ones to finalise anything.

The fact that I would not be able to see my own brother getting married broke my heart. It had been years since I had seen him and our father. Letters did not suffice. I missed them both so, so much. I knew that Imrahil would understand the reason as to why I would not be able to be there, but I still felt guilty.

Denethor tried to reconcile with me as the days went by. I accepted his apologies only to have him leave me alone. I did not want his sympathy – I found it worthless. He was making me feel like I was his prisoner, not his wife. He said his actions were out of love, but lately, I did not feel much loved by him. He was changing ever more, and I felt his mood shifting for the worse. I soon discovered that he was spending a lot of time in the Tower of Ecthelion. He disallowed anyone else to enter the tower without his strict permission. So I began to wonder what it was that he was doing up there. Some nights I would wake only to find myself alone, and the guards would tell me '_he is in the Tower of Ecthelion'_. Occasionally he would spend all night up there. If I ever asked him about it, he would quickly change the subject. His actions made me grow ever more suspicious.


	33. The End of a Story

**2987**

I draw.

Drawing is only what seems to be keeping me sane these days. I draw my memories of the ocean and the seashells. I draw Dol Amroth atop of the cliff, with the waves crashing against the rocks. I draw ships anchored in the harbour, waiting to be unleashed again for another adventure.

No matter how much I draw these images, they do not compare to the real thing. Imrahil was now married and living very happily in Dol Amroth with his new and apparently beautiful wife. He writes to inform me that he will send a portrait of Lady Rochele to me, so I may see her beauty myself. I am touched by his thoughtfulness, but am saddened when he writes to say he is far too busy to come and visit me. So I spend my time drawing, reading and walking alone in the courtyard.

The days in Gondor are darkening. No attack has happened, but the shadow of Mordor seems to be expanding ever more. Denethor spends most of his time locked away in the Tower of Ecthelion, or deep in counsel with his men. So far, my husband has bought fear and anxiety to the people. Every street in Minas Tirith has soldiers on patrol, as if expecting that the enemy were lurking in some dark alleyway. The people began to dress in more dark and sombre garments. It seemed to me that the people were continuing their mourning for the loss of Ecthelion's Stewardship. I understood their sorrow. Ecthelion never put fear in the streets of Minas Tirith. He did his best to seclude the forming terror of Mordor away from his people. Denethor, however, was not following his father's path. He sent preachers into the city streets; informing the people that the Dark Lord had risen once more, and all should prepare for a war that would bring Gondor back to its glory.

My sons however, were growing up so fast! I could not believe that my little boy, Faramir was an active four year old, who enjoyed running around and drawing pictures. I had hoped that Faramir's sudden surge in energy would lighten Denethor's mood towards our youngest son. Oh, how I had been wrong! Denethor would hardly acknowledge Faramir majority of the time, and openly praised Boromir before everyone. I hated it. I could not stand to watch my sons being publicly compared by their father. Boromir also disliked it. He was only nine years old, but he had the wits of a young man.

"What are you thinking?" I asked Denethor one evening, as we sat in the dining hall, alone.

Denethor shifted his gaze from the wall to me. "Nothing, my dear."

I lowered my head and took a deep breath. "Husband, I have been thinking about Boromir."

Denethor looked at me intently – I knew bringing up our eldest son's name would draw his attention.

"Since he will be turning ten next year," I continued, "I believe with all my heart that we should start finding him a suitable betrothal. Surely there are dozens of noble Lords in Gondor who would gladly see their daughters betrothed to the next Steward of Gondor."

Denethor sighed heavily. "I agree. However, Boromir does not seem interested in such issues."

I shook my head. "He is still only a child. Surely you have spoken to him about the importance of marriage in his status."

"I have had other matters to think about," Denethor said, drinking some wine. "More important matters."

"What could be more important than the future our own child?" I asked, trying to press the matter as far as I could.

Denethor gazed at me. "Do you have a candidate in mind for Boromir?"

"I... no. I thought I should leave that up to you, since you are his father and the Steward of Gondor. Out of all the people in Gondor, you would be the best to decide who Boromir should end up marrying."

Denethor nodded. "When I have time, I shall further look into it."

I smiled, feeling quite relieved. "Thank you, Denethor." Several moments of silence passed, before I dared speak again. "Faramir is a joy to be around," I said, smiling affectionately. "He is also so clever."

Denethor barely nodded. "Good."

"I-I thought you would be pleased at our youngest son's progress. He is learning to read far quicker than Boromir did."

Denethor glared at me. "And yet Boromir is more accomplished."

I blinked. "Of course Boromir is more accomplished, he is five years Faramir's senior. I am almost positive Faramir will become equably accomplished as Boromir."

Denethor chuckled. "You are a fool to hope so, Finduilas."

"Why?" I asked.

"Faramir will never compare to his brother," he said, chuckling a little more.

I wanted to scream in frustration. "Nevertheless, he is loved by all, despite your tainted opinion of him."

"Tainted opinion," Denethor replied, sitting up in his chair.

"Yes," I said, strongly. "The day Faramir was born, he was sick, do you remember? You hated it, and you blame Faramir for it. Nothing could have been done to prevent it." I pushed my chair back and stood up. "It is about time you put that matter behind and started seeing our wonderful young son for what he is capable of. He will make a great soldier one day, if that is all you are worried about. I highly doubt he will fail you. He loves and adores you, just as Boromir does." I bit my bottom lip from saying more and left the room. I had had enough.

I hoped that my little speech would have done some good and make Denethor rethink his actions towards Faramir. Alas! I was wrong. Faramir was still nothing in the eyes of his father. It pained me, though Boromir kept telling me that his father had made plans for Faramir to start his training to become a Knight of Gondor. Faramir seemed thrilled about the idea, and Boromir started showing his brother how to properly hold a sword and swing it.

During this time, I had received word that Imrahil's wife had delivered a healthy son. They named him Elphir and had him blessed in the great hall in Dol Amroth. I did not bother to petition a request to attend the blessing, for I knew very well what Denethor's answer would be. I felt so happy for Imrahil. In his letter, he wrote with such enthusiasm about his son. Elphir was described as dark haired with his mother's eyes, and Imrahil's nose.

I replied with my congratulations and sent a gift of dark blue and silver velvet cloth to be made into an outfit for my new nephew. Boromir and Faramir were curious about their new cousin. They kept asking when they would be able to meet him. Denethor kept saying that their uncle would visit one day with their cousin, and they all would be able to play together.

I hoped that I would end up receiving a visit from Imrahil... or anyone in that matter. Fortunately, I did.

I was attending court in the Great Hall of Feasts. It was a rather warm day, and I was fanning myself when I felt someone approach me from behind.

My lady, it has been far too long," said the male voice.

I turned around and came in view of Lord Agoron. Instantly, my eyes widened, and I felt like embracing him tightly. I knew better than to do that in such a public place. After he had given me an elegant bow, I curtsied and came up grinning.

"Lord Agoron," I said, holding out my hand for him to kiss. "What a pleasant surprise."

Agoron kissed my hand quickly. "I am currently in Osgiliath, recruiting young men to join the navy. Your brother would have done so himself, but personal matters have kept him in Dol Amroth."

"Of course," I said, smiling. "The birth of his son has given him much joy."

Agoron grinned. "Yes, it has. Little Elphir is the image of his father."

"Truly?" I asked. "I have heard that he has his mother's eyes."

"It is the only trait he has from her so far," Agoron answered. "Still, both mother and father could be no prouder of him."

I nodded. "How is my father?"

"He is well," Agoron replied. "Since he is unable to visit your sons, your father dotes and spoils Elphir every day."

My smile faded. "I wish I could visit my father, or he visit here. It would please me so much for my family to finally meet my sons."

"Imrahil plans on visiting you as soon as Elphir is a little older," Agoron assured me. "He misses you immensely, as does your father."

"I so wish I could visit them... all of them," I said sadly. "And I also wish so dearly to visit my new sister-in-law. I have heard so much about her beauty and charisma."

"Lady Rochele is a very accomplished young woman," Agoron said. "Just by looking at her, I can see why your brother chose her to be his wife. She has every charm and grace any woman would need to be a Princess. She is already loved by the people."

"I am pleased to finally hear that my brother has found such happiness in his life." I chuckled. "At one stage, I was beginning to fear that he would lead a bachelor life and only take mistresses."

"Those days are behind him, Lady Finduilas," Agoron said. "He is devoted dearly to Lady Rochele and no other woman."

I nodded in gratitude.

"Excuse me, Lord Agoron." Behind Agoron stood four guards of the citadel. At once, I felt something dreadful was about to happen.

"Yes, what is it?" Agoron asked impatiently.

"Lord Denethor has placed you under arrest," one guard declared. "It would please his Lord for you to leave his court quietly."

My eyes widened. "Agoron," I said quietly, feeling my whole body tremble in fear.

Agoron turned towards me and smiled faintly. "Do not fear."

He gave me a brief bow before turning and leaving with the guards. The entire court had gone quiet as they watched Agoron being escorted out of the hall. My emotions were mixed with worry for Agoron and anger at Denethor.

"What has he done?" I asked Denethor as I stormed into his study.

Denethor placed a piece of parchment down before sitting in back in his chair. "Who?"

I crossed my arms. "You know exactly who I am talking about."

"Lord Agoron offended me," Denethor said, rather calmly.

"Offended you!" I yelled. "How exactly did he do that?"

"He had no right to approach you at my court," he answered.

"Lord Agoron is the Admiral of the Navy of Gondor!" I continued. "He has every right! He has proven himself to my family to be a noble and well respected man!"

"Not here," Denethor said, standing up. "He is not welcome in the citadel."

"Need I repeat myself," I said angrily. "He is the Admiral!"

"Not after today," Denethor said. "I am replacing him with a man I can trust."

"For Valar sake!" I shouted. "What has Lord Agoron done? What evidence do you have that makes him untrustworthy?"

"He once possessed a jewel that is now in my possession," Denethor said, looking me straight in the eye.

"A jewel?" I said a little perplexed.

"You," he said simply.

"Lord Agoron never possessed me, as you do not posses me," I said, unfolding my arms and backing towards the door. "You are not my keeper, and nothing ever happened between Agoron and me."

"Your father would have betrothed you to him," Denethor said, his temper rising.

"That was over ten years ago!" I shouted. "A decade! Are you going to hold that against him for the rest of his life? My father found him to be a suitable match for me, until you came along. Lord Agoron never had the chance to court me. As I have already said, nothing happened between us."

"I do not care!" Denethor shouted. "I will not have him in my city!"

"You are not being reasonable!" I continued to shout. "If you have a problem with Lord Agoron, then take it up with my father. He was the one who decided to arrange the betrothal." I took a very deep breath and calmed myself. "Now, if I were you, I would release Lord Agoron."

"No," Denethor said, sitting back down. "He is to stay in custody until I have found someone to replace him as Admiral."

"That is unfair," I said, assertively. "My father and brother will not allow you to do this. Lord Agoron is needed in Dol Amroth. He needs to command the fleet. He is respected among the men."

Denethor glared at me. "Do not interfere in state affairs, Finduilas. You are my wife, not my councillor. Now, leave me, before I become even more angry and disappointed with you."

"Angry and disappointed in me?" I said, shocked. "How do you think I feel about your behaviour towards this situation? Lord Agoron has done nothing wrong. He has only come here to recruited men. What harm is there in that?"

"I said leave, Finduilas," Denethor said warningly.

"No!" I said, standing my ground. "Not until you release Lord Agoron."

Denethor stood up and walked over to me, grabbing my arm. "It is my pleasure that you leave my sight." He pulled me towards the door and opened it. "When you have sense in the matter, I will speak with you."

The door slammed shut behind me. I closed my eyes and tears fell down my face. I walked off, enraged by my husband's behaviour. How could I love a man who unlawfully locks a man up out of jealously? I could not bear to be his wife anymore. Perhaps I was only thinking such thoughts due my current state of fury. When I entered my chamber, I sat down at the table and started to write a pleading letter to my father.

_Dearest father, _

_I heartedly desire your words of comfort. I write in despair and grief. My husband, the Lord Steward of Gondor has arrested Lord Agoron. Denethor plans to remove Agoron from the station of Admiral. _

_Father, Lord Agoron has done nothing wrong! The guards arrested him whilst speaking to me at court. There was nothing private in the conversation, nothing intimate. There has been nothing intimate between us in a very long time. Please father, I need you to intervene on Agoron's behalf. Denethor has told me that he knows of the betrothal plans you made between Agoron and I all those years ago. I believe that is the only reason why Agoron has been arrested, for I see no other reason. I am scared for him, father. I truly am. _

_I wish I could write with better news, but I know of nobody else I could turn to for help._ _I am powerless in this situation. Denethor and I have quarrelled, and he does not wish to speak to me. Please father, I need your help. I know not what to do! _

_Please._

_Your loving daughter_

_Finduilas  
Minas Tirith_

I sent the letter away with my most trusted servant. My father and brother were my only hope. They were Agoron's only hope.

It was not long after that terrible incident that I began to feel withdrawn from the public. My spirit seemed to diminish. I felt lifeless. I knew I was not ill, for I had no symptoms. Denethor did not come and see me for three days. I knew he was mad for what I had said, but part of me believed Denethor was fearful that I would continue the argument. If I felt stronger, I most certainly would have. I suppose Denethor finally discovered that I had taken to my chamber and refused to see anyone.

I was sleeping, dreaming of my life in Dol Amroth and how wonderful it was. I saw my sister and her handsome husband before he died, and my mother all those years ago. The faces of those who had died came to me in my dream. They stood before me, smiling... waiting.

I opened my eyes, enjoying my memories of the life I had endured. I saw Denethor standing by the window. He did not look at me, for he had not looked at me for many days now. I honestly did not know if he had forgiven me.

"Denethor," I said softly.

He slowly turned around and looked at me affectionately, as if nothing terrible had happened between us. "You are awake," he said.

"You are not angry with me anymore?" I asked.

"Why must you bring... that up?" he said heatedly. "Why must you always bring the past to the present?"

With that, he stormed out of the chamber, leaving me feeling more afraid than ever.

Two weeks passed and news came to me that Agoron had been released and was on his way back to Dol Amroth. I was glad to hear that my letter had proved beneficial. My father had written quite assertively to Denethor, informing the Steward that he would have no other Admiral than Agoron, and that he had no right to keep the Admiral in custody without solid evidence of any mistrust.

I knew Denethor suspected me of writing to my father, but I did not care. Agoron was free, and I was content.

January 4th 2988 Third Age

Sunlight seeped through the window. A new day had arrived. Denethor blessed each new day as I lay in our bed, feeling my life slip away from my body. I knew I was dying. It was no secret. I had been dying for months now. The physicians did not know the cause of my current state, but secretly, I did.

I had been taken from the one thing I had always loved in my life. I cherished the se -. the wild state and the calming she would always bring before a storm. I loved my family, and my two beautiful boys. But nothing can compare to the love that sustains you.

My love that sustained me was the love I so deeply had for my birthplace. I was born by the sea. Who could dare think I would gladly drift away from it?

If only I was able to visit that love during my years in Minas Tirith. If I had done so, my spirit would have been lifted and I would had felt renewed each time. I could have lived to see my boys grow up and make respectful marriages and worthy men of Gondor. I did not want to leave them alone. I knew it was unfair that I no longer attempted to hold on to life. Perhaps I was being selfish, but personally, the main part of my existence was gone. The love I had borne Denethor had diminished long ago. I knew he still loved me dearly... in his own way. Parts of me blame him for my current state, but now, I forgive him. He did not want to share me... he loved me too much for that. Perhaps I was blinded by my desire to return to the ocean to see his true love.

"Mother," Boromir said, holding my hand. "Do you have an answer for me yet?"

I remembered his question clearly. _"Mother, if you knew what your future held, would you be here, in this bed, in Minas Tirith?"_

"My darling boy," I said, feeling tears swell in my eyes. "I if knew what I know now, I would still be in this bed, in Minas Tirith, but I would not be feeling like this. I would have changed certain aspects of my life and made myself feel more secure and loved by those around me." I sniffed and wiped a tear away. "I think you are old enough to know that I was not always the happiest woman in Gondor. I missed Dol Amroth dearly, and I would have done anything to see it again. So, if I knew what I know now. I would have better prepared myself for the fact that I would not be seeing such a beautiful sight ever again. I would have focused on other beautiful sights - the Anduin River, the mountain range, and the vast plains before the city." I studied Boromir's sad and fearful face. "Do not be troubled for me, Boromir. When I am gone, always remember that I love you more than life itself. The same applies for Faramir. Please, Boromir, please. I need you to look after your brother. Faramir will need a role model and a hand to hold as he grows up. Your father will be much grieved when I am gone. Look after them both."

"Yes, mother. I understand," Boromir said, trying to avoid weeping. "I love you too, and so does Faramir."

The day drifted on, and I felt my body starting to become cold. I placed more blankets over me, but nothing did suffice.

Denethor and Faramir entered the chamber late in the afternoon.

"Our son has come to... to say goodbye," Denethor said with great difficulty.

I was amazed to see Denethor holding Faramir's hand. I smiled, looking at Denethor with much appreciation. "Thank you, Denethor."

Faramir carefully climbed onto the bed and embraced me, weeping as he did. "Hush..." I said, soothingly. "You need to be a strong boy, do you understand?" I asked.

Faramir nodded and wiped his face with his hand. "Yes, mama. I understand."

'Good boy," Denethor said, helping Faramir off the bed. "Go and be with your brother now."

Once Faramir had left the room, I sunk down into the pillows. Denethor walked over and gently kissed me. He stroked my hair and kissed my cheek. "I love you," he said, tearfully.

I held his hand. "I-I love you too," I said. I knew I was lying, but my tears were mournful of the fact that I no longer loved the man who was the father of my children. "Look after my boys."

Denethor nodded. "I will love Faramir, in memory of you."

I smiled. "Thank you."


	34. Epilogue

**March 15 3019 TA**  
**War of the Ring – The Siege of Minas Tirith**

Denethor walked silently through the stone corridor towards the throne room. It was utterly dark, and a cold breeze seeped in through the high windows. In the distance, he could hear the shouts of his soldiers and the rumble of boulders being catapulted into the city – his city.

He felt the end was near.

As he walked around the last corner into the throne room, a sharp, cold breeze made the candles in the corridor flutter. He took no notice of it, for he was wrapped warmly in his cloak. He had no need to remain in this cold place any longer. His place was at Faramir's side and that was exactly where he was going.

"How is my youngest son?" a soft, female voice spoke.

Denethor stopped, hearing the voice speak from inside the throne room. That voice he heard – it sounded so familiar. However, he had not heard it in many, many years.

"Finduilas?" Denethor said, breathlessly.

He walked into the throne room and saw his late wife standing in the middle of the room. She was dressed in a long black gown, with a matching black overcoat. What daunted Denethor the most was the long grey veil, which touched the floor before her.

"My sweet, dear Finduilas," Denethor said, stepping closer. "My beautiful wife. Why have you come back during such a dark hour?"

"I have come to see my son," Finduilas said, emotionless to Denethor's sudden surge of happiness.

"Faramir?" Denethor queried. "H-h... he will be joining you very soon."

Finduilas slowly shook her head, but dared not break eye contact with her husband. "My poor son. You have not always been a kind father towards him," Finduilas said sadly. "I have watched him for so long, wandering Ithilien – _abandoned_ by his father. What has my poor boy done to deserve such neglect? He was such a clever boy, learning lore and reading at a rate most boys his age could not. I am so proud of him. You should be proud of him too... Denethor."

Denethor stared at his late wife in awe. "I am proud of Faramir. He was the last child you gave me. Your last gift. But he grew into a man so different from his brother, and I was bitterly saddened."

Finduilas showed no empathy. "Boromir - my special boy. He was the son I gave to you that you needed. The heir you wanted so dearly from the day we were married." Finduilas' eyes were filled with pain and grief. "My poor boy – you expected far too much from him. Men are not made of stone, Denethor, and you allowed him to go to Imladris when you knew it in your heart that it would lead him to his doom."

"No... No!" Denethor said, backing away. "Boromir was my greatest son – my leader among men. I would never have led him to his doom." He leaned against a pillar, and wept. When he looked up, he saw Boromir standing next to Finduilas, dressed in deep blue with a matching mantle trimmed with silver.

"Do you not understand, Denethor?" Finduilas said, placing her arm on Boromir's shoulder. "You _killed_ him."

"Boromir," Denethor said, stretching out his arm towards his beloved son.

Boromir did not move nor speak. Instead, mother and son slowly turned around and quietly started to walk away.

"No... Boromir, Finduilas... come back!" Denethor moved towards them, but a loud bang caused him to look in the opposite direction. He heard footsteps approaching, and when he turned back again, his wife and son were gone – vanished.

"Finduilas!" Denethor shouted. "Do not take my son from me. Please, Finduilas. Come back!"

"My Lord," a guard said, walking into the throne room.

"Where is she?" Denethor asked him, grabbing the guard by the collar.

"Who... my Lord?"

"Finduilas, where is Finduilas?" he asked desperately. "I need her forgiveness."

The guard looked at him with alarm. "My... my Lord, Lady Finduilas died years ago."

"She was right here." Denethor let the guard go. "She had Boromir. I want them back – they are the ones that I love and... and Faramir."

Denethor let go of the guard and ran towards the chamber where Faramir was being tended too.

It was at that very moment that Denethor wanted nothing more than to be reconciled with his wife and son. But he would not leave Faramir to the hands of his enemies. Before the Citadel could be infiltrated, there would be no trace of him or Faramir for the enemy to hew.

**...**

The guard who had found Denethor went on the retell his encounter to many folk. Soon, the entire White City knew of the madness of Denethor. King Elessar listened intently to the guard's tale, and was intrigued by what Denethor had acclaimed to have seen.

Was Finduilas only an image of Denethor's madness, or had she truly appeared to speak her last thoughts to her husband.

What do you think?

The End

**

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Author's Note - Amazingly, this tale has ended. I hope the epilogue was not too theatrical. I got the idea from watching Season 4 of 'The Tudors'. From the scenes where Henry VIII sees the ghosts of his wives. When I watched those scenes, it made me wonder what Finduilas would say to Denethor about how he raised their sons alone... etc if she had the chance.

I hope this story has been enjoyable. I will be starting the next part of this series shortly. Finduilas will be in it. Though, it will be based around her sister, Ivriniel. Also, the story will be shorter. Thank you to all those who have taken the time to read Memoirs of a Princess.

Lady Demiya


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